Summer Love
by Furtively Lethargic
Summary: Losing the chance to go to Italy, the girls decided to borrow the Honeycutt's beach house. Things couldn't go wrong anymore, right? Wrong. To stay in the beach house, Bonnie had suggested to be the Salvatore brothers' maid- along with Elena. AH/Rewritten
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

**IMPORTANT A/N:** I'm going to rewrite this story because the original one (which was published in 07-05-2010—whoa, almost two years ago?) was too boring—and confusing and hard and cliché—for me. I think everything I write is cliché but you know what! Hmph! Oh and take note that I didn't even read the whole series of VD nor do I watch the TV show. I only gather information through reading fanfics about them and watching Bamon clips (har har…). So I'm going to rewrite this as best as I can and just make this **all human**. Yes, I'm changing the WHOLE plot (and make it shorter?). Sorry guys if you don't like this anymore! But still, I hope you enjoy! :)

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><p><strong>Summer Love<strong>

**PART I**

The hot sun was shining brightly above them, indicating that summer has officially begun. Acoustical music blasted through the air as people walked by with cold drinks in their hands. The wind warm and gentle, unnoticed by the crowd around a small stand with a sign that says; "_WIN A TRIP TO FLORENCE, ITALY._" The people around the stand had their seven bucks ready while the watched the little redhead and tall blonde beauty debate on what egg to choose.

"Five seconds, little missy," the host announced with a smug tone.

Bonnie McCullough wiggled her fingers and stared at the three eggs; green, white, and red—the Italian flag's colors. I _really_ want to go there, she thought in distraught.

"It's okay if we don't go there, Bon," Elena Gilbert reassured her friend, lightly touching the redhead's shoulder. "We've got each other. We can hang out at the beach house that Matt's family owns and we could go _fishing_." Elena wagged her eyebrows at her friend when she emphasized the word 'fishing.'

"Three," the host said, putting his microphone underneath his rough chin.

"I got this," Bonnie muttered. She was so nervous that her right arm started tingling. Wiggling her fingers and only having a second left to pick a damned egg, Bonnie picked the white egg that her right arm (and hand) had been unconsciously attracted to. Shakily, she handed the egg towards the host and leaned back on Elena. The blonde took her friend's hand and squeezed it tightly.

The whole crowd was dead silent, watching the host open the egg—a paper springing out.

Slowly (maybe it was for dramatic effects, Bonnie thought, but it surely worked), the host—with a mask of indifference—pulled the thin strip of paper and prepared to read it aloud. Bonnie and Elena held their breaths.

"I'm sorry, but you lost your chance. Try again next time."

The crowd exhaled their breaths in relief (how selfish, Elena thought) as Bonnie dropped her shoulders while Elena patted her back to soothe her overwhelmed friend.

"It's okay Bonnie," Elena said, steering the depressed girl towards the parking lot. "We'll get to Florence someday."

"Maybe I should've picked the red one, instead. I mean, it's _so _obvious that it was in the red one! Research says that red is an attention-seeking color, so it _must_ have been there!" Bonnie exclaimed, sliding in the passenger's seat.

"Bonnie . . . that doesn't really connect to what just happened," Elena said, smiling slightly—although she tried to keep a straight face.

"Meredith is the only one allowed to deadpan me-"

"Well, I'm not exactly deadpanning you anyway," Elena said, giggling. "So, how does the mall sound?"

"No way. I say the pool," Bonnie said while pulling the window down. The blonde started the engine and reversed the car, turning the radio on at a moderate volume. "It's too nice today to be in the mall."

"And we have to get our tan," Elena said, winking.

"Sunbathing at my house tomorrow afternoon?" Bonnie asked, the lost-chance-of-going-to-Italy immediately forgotten.

"And swimming this afternoon?" Elena asked.

"Deal."

"Deal," the blonde said, pinky swearing with her friend.

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><p>When six o'clock in the evening came around, Elena drove a blushing—yet smiling—Bonnie home. "So be ready at 8AM tomorrow morning, okay?"<p>

"I can't believe Matt is letting us stay in his beach house!" Bonnie squealed, all thoughts of sunbathing by the beach plaguing her mind. "While he's going to the football camp!"

"I told you he has the hots for you," Elena said with a grin. "And he says we can stay there for the rest of the summer!"

Bonnie continued with her I-can't-believe sentences. "I can't believe that he said that his parents wouldn't mind letting us stay there!"

Elena grinned, nodding her head enthusiastically.

"I can't believe that he said he's going there after his sports camp ends!" Bonnie exclaimed, her mind already forming romantic scenarios.

The Gilbert laughed, her lapis lazuli irises wide with excitement. "Should we spend the whole summer there?" she asked.

Bonnie shrugged. "We should still bring lots and lots of clothes in case something happens."

"Ooh, look at Bonnie—being mature and prepared like that," Elena teased, giggling as Bonnie lightly hit her arm.

"Oh please," she said, grinning. "Okay so. We _definitely_ need to pack swim suits, shorts, tank tops, and . . . t-shirts?"

Elena winked. "Who needs t-shirts?" she joked.

"Yer right," Bonnie said in a faux (unknown, nonexistent . . .) accent, "who needs 'em?" She flipped her red, curly hair over her shoulder. It wasn't exactly effective considering that her hair is a tad bit above her shoulder.

The blonde quickly caught on, imitating the accent Bonnie invented. "Def'nitely. I'll call you later, hun. We'll talk over the other necessities of this trip. Now go yonder," she said, smiling.

Bonnie giggled. "Yonder? Really, Elena? I think you just invented that accent."

"Says the girl who invented an accent a sentence before mine," she said.

"Oh psh, that wasn't invented. That was my Scottish accent!" Bonnie said as she jumped out of the car. "Call me later, okay?"

"Of course," Elena said through the open window. "See you at eight!"

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><p><strong>AN: **I already got chapter two ready and am working on the rest of the chapters. :") So, you know, I won't have to update in an irregular pattern. Maybe I'll update every Saturday. ^.^ So how was it? I'm thinking of making the chapters short- and the story short, but idek. Maybe, right? Anyway, I hoped you guys liked it! I think I made them OOC. Oh damn it. I'll work on it!

**Domo arigato for everything guys! **:)

**. . . review? **:")


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

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><p><strong>Summer Love<strong>

**PART II**

Bonnie had already packed two bags that night and fell asleep while packing the third. So when Elena came by around 7:58AM, Bonnie had to rush and finish her last bag of clothes.

"Why did you bring so much?" Elena asked, cocking an eyebrow at her disheveled friend.

The redhead huffed out a breath as she dropped her last (heavy) bag in the back of Elena's car. "Have to be prepared," she said and closed the trunk.

Elena shrugged, sliding in the driver's seat. Bonnie ran over to the passenger's side, checking her pocket for her phone and house keys. "I'm glad my parents didn't mind. They seem to be delighted that Mary and I are out of the house all summer."

The blonde laughed. "At least we're all going to have a fun summer," she said and put the key in ignition. Bonnie smiled and nodded, opening the radio to some random station.

"A two-hour drive is ahead of us," she stated while pulling away from the McCullough's driveway.

"I've got water and chips to help us survive," Bonnie said, patting her tote bag filled with food; also known as her 'Food Bag.'

Elena grinned and exited the block, pulling down her sunglasses. Bonnie sunk down in the passenger's seat, also pulling her sunglasses on.

The day was beautiful. The birds were flying high and chirping a random yet wonderful song, the sun was bright and high up, the wind was warm and steady, and the road ahead of them appeared to have so many . . . predictions.

For one, they could find hot guys and have a summer romance. Or they could be scouted by a modeling agent and _then_ find a summer romance. Or they could meet lots of people and . . . have fun (and a summer romance). Or they could go around a bonfire and talk, sing, dance—the possibilities are endless and fun! Bonnie couldn't wait to get to the beach house.

Thirty-one minutes into the drive, Bonnie opened a bottle of water and gulped it down. She paused in her singing to please her dry throat. Elena had been singing as well, although she didn't look like she needed a drink.

As Bonnie settled back in the seat, she glanced at her best friend through the corner of her eyes.

There was no doubt that her best friend was extremely beautiful. She had her long blonde hair tied up in a high bun, her magnificent lapis lazuli eyes covered by her Oakley sunglasses and framed with her long lashes, her slender neck showing no marks whatsoever (just like the rest of her skin), and her body perfectly fit in her loose gray shirt and dark shorts. Her nose was perfect as well, just like her pink lips.

Sometimes, Bonnie wondered if she looked as beautiful as her best friend.

Probably not, she thought. She was short, unlike her best friend, and she had red curly hair. Her face, instead of looking mature, was heart faced and looked _childish_. And her eyes! Her eyes are the color brown. Well, hazel-brown—but still! Also, people tell her that her eyes are like a "doe." A _doe_!

Elena suddenly hit the brakes and swerved to the right, both twenty-one-year-olds jerked forward then to the side. Bonnie accidentally hit her head on the window.

"Ow," she mumbled in surprise.

"Sorry!" the blonde beauty hurriedly apologized. "The car in front of me just stopped."

"Stupid car," Bonnie muttered. She instinctively rubbed her head.

"Less than an hour left," Elena said happily. "I'm getting stiff and sore in this seat."

"Same," Bonnie agreed, stretching her legs underneath the glove compartment. "Want some chips or water? Or both?"

"Nah, I'm fine. I can last another hour," she said, grinning.

"Suit yourself," Bonnie said and yawned, watching the cars pass them in I-264. "So we just follow this road and do a few turns and we're there?"

"The GPS says so," Elena replied, glancing at the GPS in between them.

The GPS made a dinging noise to point out that they achieved another mile.

"One less mile to go," Elena said while smiling in overdramatic relief.

"It really pains you to drive, huh?" Bonnie teased, giggling.

"You don't know how much," she said, putting a hand over her heart.

Bonnie giggled and stopped just as a new song came on. The intro was what caught them; a piano. Her eyes widened and she glanced at Elena, who gaped back at her and grinned.

"This is our jam!" Bonnie exclaimed, sitting up and started bobbing her head to the beat.

"Making my way downtown, walking fast, faces past, and I'm home bound," they sang simultaneously, beaming wildly.

Bonnie hummed the mini piano interlude.

"Staring blankly ahead, just making my way, making my way through the cro-o-owd . . ."

The young adults giggled and Bonnie pointed at Elena. "And I need you."

Elena hummed the same piano interlude, then looked at Bonnie—making a not-so-serious face. "And I miss you."

"And now I won . . . der . . ."

Elena laughed and screamed out of her window, "This is going to be the _best summer ever_!" Bonnie grinned and nodded, still singing.

After turning a few wrong directions, Elena and Bonnie had finally parked by the Honeycutt's beach house. Both young ladies literally ran out of the car and stared at the superb beach house, their jaws dropping.

"This is the first time I've seen their beach house . . . after it was renovated," Elena said in awe.

"Same here," Bonnie said as people passed the two gaping ladies.

The house was utterly . . . splendid. The roof was a dark brown, its body was beige . . . but it was mostly covered in glasses. _Glasses_! The front of the beach house was mostly covered in windows and glasses too! Only the blinds were preventing them from seeing what's inside. It was beautiful and sophisticated and elegant and . . . just wonderful. A few years ago, it was only made of dark mahogany wood and a dark green roof. It was simple back then—when Matt and his family were in a financial crisis.

Now, however, when his parents landed a hot job and earned good money (and saved their excess earnings), they used it to pay their debts and renovate their homes.

"Come on Bon," Elena said after shaking out of her stupor. She gently grabbed her elbow and dragged her towards her car. "Let's get our things and-"

"Wait, what about the _key_?" Bonnie asked, suddenly realizing that they needed a _key_ to get inside the beautiful house.

Amusedly, Elena pulled the key from her pocket and jiggled it in front of Bonnie's eyes. "I stopped by at Matt's today and he gave me one of his many spare keys. I didn't see his parents though—and I really wanted to say thank you for letting us stay here."

"For free too," Bonnie mumbled. "We ought to thank Matt the next time we call him."

Elena nodded, opening her trunk to pull out her bags. She only had two bags, but they were big . . . sort of. Bonnie hummed a song while she lifted her bags from the trunk, mumbling, "Unpacking would be such a pain later."

Once all their bags were out of the car, they carried them towards the front porch of the house and Elena pushed the key in.

The inside was as beautiful as the outside.

Bonnie gasped histrionically, dropping her heavy bags on the floor. "Oh my God. It's so _pretty_ here!" She spun around on her heel and faced Elena, who was also examining their surroundings. "I want to live here," she announced with a little jut of her chin.

"Me too," Elena breathed, gently placing her stuff on the floor.

The two of them were silent as they continued to observe the place. The floor was wooden and the living room was off to their right—with elegant furniture—and the kitchen was off to their left. And it was a two-storey house too.

"Didn't this use to be a one-storey house?" Bonnie asked, slightly tilting her head to the side.

"Yup," Elena mumbled absently, staring at the light gray paint of walls. It was neutral, but still pretty.

"Let's check out the second floor," Bonnie said while running up the staircase near the kitchen.

By the time they finished picking a room (or, rather, two rooms) and unpacking some of their things, both girls tiredly laid down on the floor of the living room, staring at the ceiling fan above them.

"I love it here. And we haven't even started with our _real_ summer plans yet," Elena said.

"Oh I know right," Bonnie said, smiling exhaustedly. "When I graduate college, I'm going to save up my money and build a beach house of my own."

"Me too. It would be nice to retire in a place like this," Elena said softly.

"We sound so old," Bonnie commented, laughing. "We're already planning where to retire to," she added with a giggle.

"Say," Elena said after giggling with her friend, "What do you want to do tomorrow?"

"Just . . . oh I don't know. We could walk around first . . . or something," she said uncertainly.

"It's funny that when we got here, we're totally clueless of what to do," Elena said, grinning.

"You're right. We're so _lame_," Bonnie joked, turning on her side.

And on their conversation went. At 9:30 PM, both girls decided to get some rest and wake up early to watch the dolphins—if they even see some.

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><p><strong>AN: **So . . . whatcha think? Okay? A bit OOC? Completely OOC? Horrible? u_u gah, I'm sorry for asking so many questions! I just kind of think that they're OOC but I think I have to make the characters this way so that the plot would fit. I'll try to make it as "them" as possible! So yeah, I shall be updating this every Friday. Gives me time to write out the rest of the chapters~ I'm already writing chapter 9 btw. ;)

**Thanks guys for everything! :D**

I shall ask one more thing of you . . . if you don't mind . . . please **review**! (^^)


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

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><p><strong>Summer Love<strong>

**PART III**

It was early in the morning. Well, to Bonnie and Elena, 8:30 AM was early indeed.

Bonnie woke up first, her hair all over the place while Elena went in the bathroom to take a shower. Because of the temperature—around eighty-four degrees Fahrenheit—Bonnie took her shirt off and only wore her white bra and denim shorts down the stairs. She wasn't afraid that anyone would see her. The blinds _are_ closed after all.

She was cooking some eggs and bacon when Elena came down the steps, her hair wrapped in her lilac towel. Elena, like Bonnie, only wore her dark blue bra and some white capris in the kitchen.

"Looking hot, girl," Bonnie said and bumped the side of her hips against her friend's, using the spatula to put her scrambled eggs on a plate. The bacon was already on the plate—damn, it smells so good. "We missed the dolphins today," she said sadly.

"That much is obvious," Elena said, chuckling. She bumped the side of her hips against the redhead's, saying, "Looking fine, girl," she replied.

"Scrambled or sunny-side up?" Bonnie asked, turning back to the stove.

"Scrambled please-"

The front door suddenly slammed open and a different language was heard in the halls. Abruptly, the deep voices stopped. An agreement in that different language was established and, soon, footsteps were racing towards the kitchen.

Elena and Bonnie nervously glanced at each other, Bonnie raising her oily spatula and Elena grabbing the fork from Bonnie's plate.

Their eyes widened as two men in t-shirts and trunks stared at them. Both had dark mops of hair, but one had green eyes and the other had dark eyes. They were both a light tan and their built was lean and appeared strong. Very handsome.

"Who are you?" Elena asked, her eyes drifting from the dark-eyed man to the green-eyed man. She lowered the fork.

"And what are you doing here?" Bonnie asked. She turned the stove off and left the spatula in the pan.

Both men didn't speak, however, for they were staring at their chests. The two young ladies, whom completely forgot that they were only wearing their _bras_ and bottoms in front of two strangers, frowned.

As Bonnie crossed her arms, she was repeating her question and immediately stopped. With a gulp, she quickly hid herself behind Elena and blushed. Her face was entirely red.

"Bonnie, what-" Elena soon realized afterwards and hastily pulled the towel over her head to cover her chest. Her damp hair flowed down her shoulders.

"Now that _that_'s out of the way," the man with dark eyes said with a husky tone, "who are _you_ and what are you doing in this beach house we rented?"

"Rented?" Bonnie squeaked, her eyes wide and innocent.

Elena only narrowed her eyes. "What are you talking about? Or friend owns this house."

"Oh, so your friends with the Honeycutt pair?" Man Number One asked curiously. Man Number Two, the one with green eyes, remained silent.

"Well, we're friends with their son-" Elena started.

"He doesn't exactly control what's going on here then-" Man Number One interrupted and ran a hand through his hair just as Man Number Two interfered between the two bickering individuals.

"We can talk about this after the two of you get dressed," Man Number Two said calmly. Bonnie squeaked out an agreement and waited for Elena to move. Her best friend, apparently, didn't move until she felt Bonnie nudge her in the spine.

The blonde-haired beauty, even with her hair damp, held her head high as she passed in between the two strangers. Bonnie blushed under their gazes while anxiously trailing behind her friend. Both of their gazes were drawn upon the bags and suitcases these men left behind by the front door. Bonnie forced herself to hold her chin up, but regardless of her efforts, she only managed to trip up the stairs because she wasn't looking.

And the worst part? Man Number One saw her trip and had smirked amusedly.

Ten minutes later, both girls entered the kitchen. To both the men's surprises (they always thought that women took long).

"Let's start with introductions," Man Number Two said, sipping from his coffee. (How dare he freely move around the house? Elena was secretly furious—or maybe her feelings were obvious.)

"Ladies first," Man Number One said lazily, also sipping from his cup of coffee.

"Oh, I believe you have to go first then," Elena replied. Deadpan.

Bonnie hid a smile and bowed her head, looking at her bare feet.

"Brother, _please_." Man Number Two stared at his brother, his eyebrows furrowed—and yet he still looks handsome. How is that even possible?

"Fine, fine. I'm Damon Salvatore," Man Number One said, smiling crookedly.

"I'm Stefan Salvatore," Man Number Two said, a friendly smile gracing his lips.

Elena seemed to be infatuated to Man Number Two—er, Stefan—with his friendly behavior. She, unfortunately, was attracted to Man Number One—um, Damon—as well. Bonnie felt the same way.

"Elena Gilbert," she said, then nudged Bonnie.

"Bonnie McCullough," Bonnie introduced softly, a soft blush on her cheeks.

The two brothers glanced at each other, then Damon spoke up. "Are you, by any chance, of Scottish descent?"

Her doe-like eyes blinked curiously and she mutely nodded.

"Interesting," Damon murmured, his eyes zeroed on her. "That must explain the red hair."

Bonnie blushed and bit her lip, avoiding eye contact with Damon. Stefan spoke up when he felt the awkward atmosphere. "Don't mind him. He's always like that."

Damon rolled his eyes and Elena spoke up next. "So, explain to us why you're here please?"

"We rented this a month ago because beach houses in the States have harder reservations in the summer. But my brother and I really wanted to go here, so we searched for a place to stay a month ago," Stefan explained.

"And then we were welcomed by two half-naked ladies in the kitchen," Damon muttered, smiling amusedly.

"_Anyway_, what's your story?" Stefan asked, directing it to Elena and Bonnie.

"Because we didn't get a chance to visit Florence, Italy yesterday, Bonnie and I called up our friend—you know, Mr. and Mrs. Honeycutt's son—and asked him if we could stay here for a few days. He told us we could stay for the rest of the summer and he'll drop by later in July," Elena explained.

"That boy obviously has no knowledge about his parents renting it out to us," Damon muttered. He rubbed his temple and leaned back on the desk. "Do you girls live far from here?"

"A little bit over a hundred miles," Bonnie said, shuffling her feet.

The Salvatore brothers exchanged another look. "How long was the drive?"

"Two _exhausting_ hours," Elena said, hauling Bonnie to a stool by the counter. Bonnie sat up straight on the wooden stool and Elena placed her elbows on the counter.

"Try ten hours in a plane," muttered Damon as he rubbed his face.

At this, Bonnie was openly curious. Leaning forward, the petite girl almost fell off the stool; if it weren't for Elena steadying her, she would've fell flat on her face. "Where are you guys from?"

Damon smiled alluringly. "Florence, Italy."

"Well," Bonnie said in astonishment. She blinked, surprised, and leaned back. "Well." That's a bit ironic, she thought.

Stefan repressed a sigh. "So how are we doing this?" All he wanted right now was to _sleep_, but he has other matters to attend to—sadly.

"Doing what?" Elena asked, brushing her hair with her long fingers.

"What are we going to do about this?" Stefan asked, rubbing his temples. The brothers sure have a habit of rubbing their faces, Elena thought, I wonder how they still maintain their good looks . . .

"Well . . . can you let us stay here for two weeks?" she asked.

"No way in hell. Unless I get benefits from the two of you for two weeks, I refuse to let you girls stay here," Damon said angrily. He (and his brother) paid lots of Italian Euro for this (outstanding) beach house and there was no way in _hell_ he was going to let these girls off for free. Just because they're friends with the Honeycutt's son. No way. Just no damn way.

"Why?" Elena asked.

"Why _not_?" Damon corrected. He sipped his coffee, his tongue burning at the hot sensation. "Nothing is free, my dear. You've got to remember that."

"But Damon-"

"Listen to me Stefan," Damon addressed his brother, his dark eyes staring intently at his brother's. His brother's gaze didn't waver either. "We paid for this rent. And I am _not_ letting anyone stay here for free. _No one._ Understand?"

Bonnie held her breath. She really wanted to be here in the beach house. But so far, her summer had been a roller coaster ride of broken hopes and nonexistent summer romances. Oh why does this have to happen?

Elena twisted a lock of her long blonde hair around her finger, frowning. "At least let us stay here until the afternoon. We'll leave by five o'clock-"

"No!" Bonnie exclaimed, cutting off the blonde beauty. When all eyes turned to her, she gulped and hesitantly raised her eyes to meet the gazes of the Italian brothers. She swallowed loudly again. "How about . . . we become your personal servants? Just let us stay here for the rest of the summer. Please. You don't have to pay us!"

"Are you _crazy_?" Elena asked in disbelief. There was only a slim chance that she would offer her service to these brothers. There was simply no way she'll do whatever they please—and without payment! How _absurd_ is that?

Damon, seeing the incredulity etched on the blonde's face, quickly contemplated the proposal of the redhead. He'd love to make the blonde suffer—she just reminds him so much of that bitch, Katherine Pierce. So anything to make the Katherine-look-alike uncomfortable would please him a lot.

"What do you say, little brother?" Damon asked, a cynical smirk forming on his face.

The look Stefan sent him clearly asked his motives but Damon ignored him. "Well? I'm up for the redhead's idea."

"She has a name, you know," Elena snapped. "Her name's Bonnie."

"I know that," Damon retorted. "I just don't want to call her by her name."

Bonnie placed a restraining hand on her friend's shoulder, trying to settle down the anger in her blue eyes. "I don't mind being called a redhead. I _am_ one anyway," she said softly.

"A natural one at that," Damon observed, tilting his face up to the unmoving ceiling fan above them. "So what do you say, little brother? Yes or no?"

"Please," Bonnie pleaded. "I don't want to stay at home for the rest of the summer," she added, clasping her hands together in a pleading gesture.

Reluctantly, Stefan nodded. He casted a look of displeasure as Damon smiled wickedly. The older Salvatore suddenly stood up from the chair and stretched his arms. "Alright ladies. Bags are by the door and just find me in a room upstairs. I'm taking a nap. _Ciao_," he said with a half wave, walking out of the kitchen.

"I'll help," Stefan instantly said once his brother was out of the room. He strolled out of the kitchen with his hands in his pockets, expecting the two ladies to follow. And they did.

Bonnie soon regretted her suggestion as she heaved Damon's heavy suitcase up the stairs. Will she ever get her summer romance?

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><p><strong>AN**: This was inspired by Debbie Macomber's "Love by Degree" :) It's a really cute story; very lovely and wonderful and nice and romantic and . . . oh man, I dunno how to say this word in English. I refer to is as, "nakakakilig". So yeah, the story is nakakakilig. Just, yeah. I don't know how to explain it nor do I know the English word for it. xD Anyway, did you guys like that? I hope you guys did!

**Thanks so much for everything guys**! I suppose you guys recieved my thank-you PMs, hm? Well, I just wanted to let you guys know how much I appreciate your reviews. And I'm so, so sorry for rambling!

Ah, **review**?


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

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><p><strong>Summer Love<strong>

**PART IV**

Luckily, the beach house has four rooms—now occupied by the four people inside.

The birds were chirping outside and the sunlight was showing through the blinds. Kids were screaming and playing outside in the hot sand, adults were watching their offspring while they mingle with their friends and family . . . and Bonnie is still asleep in the room.

It was 9:13AM. Too early for her to get up. Plus, with the work she, Elena, and Stefan did yesterday, she couldn't seem to move her body. Damon brought many heavy, expensive-looking suitcases (Bonnie idly wondered if he was part of the mafia) with him from Italy whereas Stefan brought a few semi-heavy and simple-looking suitcases. She was glad that Stefan was the one who carried most of his suitcases to his room. She and Elena were practically strength-drained by the time they finished putting Damon's stuff in his room.

Unfortunately for Bonnie, Damon took the room across from hers. Yesterday, she found him sleeping on the bed with his tummy facing down and his face turned to the side. He looked like a kid during that moment . . . which was surprising since he looked like a, well, man when they had a discussion earlier.

Seven minutes later, Bonnie forced herself to get up. Slowly, she stripped off her nightgown and pulled on a pair of shorts and a white tank top. She stealthily walked down the stairs, afraid of waking the people in the house up, and held her breath as she entered the kitchen.

Luck must've been on her side today (and for the first time in the summer) because the redhead didn't see anyone in the kitchen. Sighing in relief, Bonnie began raiding the fridge. But she didn't find anything appealing to her taste.

"No yummy food," she muttered, putting her hands on the counter near the sink and cabinets. A thought suddenly struck her as she reached up to the cabinet on her tip toes. Feebly opening the cabinet, Bonnie chose to lift her petite form up on the counter to get her breakfast; nutella, to be specific. She kneeled on the counter and quickly grabbed the large nutella container before jumping down on the wooden floor.

Next, Bonnie searched for a spoon and found one inside a drawer by the sink. Smiling contentedly, she opened the nutella container and pushed her spoon in the semi-sticky sweetness and pulled a one-inch thick of chocolate goodness to her mouth.

I wish I could eat this every _day_, Bonnie thought while digging in her nutella container.

Her curls, still in a red tangle of mess, were framing her heart-shaped face as she continued to eat her nutella. She was trying to avoid contact between her curls and nutella because she didn't want to take a shower yet.

"Enjoying your unhealthy breakfast, Little Red?" Damon asked, entering the kitchen with only his sweatpants on.

She lowered her gaze, blushing. Why does he have to be _shirtless_ and attractive? Bonnie couldn't help but glance at his lean and muscled upper torso. She randomly wondered if it felt as hard as it looked. What if he just used make-up on it? Well, if he did, then he's a good make-up artist.

"Yes," she squeaked, placing another mouthful.

Damon just went around the kitchen, trying to find some edible food. He should've brought some pasta . . . or anything _edible_. He assumed that mostly everything in the kitchen were preservatives. Noticing this, Bonnie balanced her spoon on top of the nutella container.

"Do you want some coffee?"

"Anything edible would be fine," he muttered, sitting on the counter while Bonnie stood up to make him some coffee.

She attempted to start a small conversation. "So do you enjoy the place so far?" Bonnie asked, putting a cup of water in the microwave to heat it up (it's how she makes coffee, mind you).

"We haven't done anything yet," Damon replied, watching her move around the kitchen. Her heart thudded oddly against her chest.

"Well, what are your impressions of the country then?" Bonnie asked, trying to think on her feet. She grabbed the container of coffee granules, lightly drumming her fingers on the granite countertop. "Oh, and do you like your coffee sweet or . . . bland?"

"I'm not a fan of either, so somewhere in between," he said with a shrug. Damon crossed his arms and leaned his head on the cabinet behind him. "So far, I think that the country is _pazzo_," he murmured.

"Pazzo?" Bonnie asked, raising her eyebrows while glimpsing at him.

"Crazy. Insane. Loony," Damon said with an amused smirk.

The microwave beeped three times, the words "END" on the timer. "Oh," Bonnie said, putting half a spoonful of coffee granules in his coffee. She added a little bit of sugar and mixed the warm beverage, handing it over to Damon and sitting back on her chair to resume eating her sweet, "unhealthy" breakfast.

She watched him through her peripheral vision. He wasn't saying anything about the coffee as he first took a sip of it. He continued to drink it silently. Bonnie wondered if that was a good or bad sign. She thought it was the latter.

"Can you cut it out?" he asked, rather annoyed.

"What?" Bonnie asked, dumbfounded.

"Can you cut it out with your staring? It's rude," he said, taking a slow gulp of coffee.

"I-I wasn't staring!" Bonnie exclaimed, quickly becoming defensive. She slouched in her chair, folding her legs underneath her, bashfully stabbing the half empty nutella container with her spoon. I wasn't staring, she repeated in her head—although she knew she was lying.

He ignored her and planned out his day in his head. First, he needed to go to a grocery store to buy some suitable-for-eating food. And then, he'll hit the beach in the afternoon. Afterwards, he'll go to some local bar (he'll do some research on Google later) and pick up some girls. And then- why is that maiden still staring?

"Are you expecting something from me?" he asked, locking his gaze with hers.

She blushed and shook her head. Then, on second thought, Bonnie opened her mouth to ask a question. "Is the coffee good?"

"I would've put it down if it wasn't," he said nonchalantly. He drank the remains of his coffee and placed it on the sink. "Wash that for me."

"I'm not your-"

"Maid?" Damon asked, cocking an eyebrow. He moved off the counter and walked leisurely towards her, a curved smile on his face. "From what I remember, we made a deal yesterday morning." He saw her gulp and stepped closer, bending down so that his face was in level with hers. Secretly astonished at the unconventional beauty he saw, Damon inclined a little closer. An idea flashed in his mind. "Wash the cup and get ready in half an hour. We're going to the grocery store."

Bonnie exhaled her breath when Damon finally strolled away, leaving her in a nervous train of emotions. She was embarrassed, for one, and she was also angry. And . . . what's this feeling? Is she developing a crush on that- that- _guy_? How is that even possible? All he did was order her around! And, when he's not ordering her around, he's just quietly _there_.

"Damn it," she muttered while dropping her spoon in the sink. "Being a maid should be worth it." And so, Bonnie McCullough—a "maid" of the Salvatore brothers—washed the spoon and the cup.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Happy Friday guys! My spring break is near to its end . . . but I _have_ enjoyed it (surprisingly!). :) Of course, it's mainly because I finally bought the first book of the Infernal Devices and am going to finish up reading today . . . Anyhoo, did you guys like the chapter? It kinda seems boring to me, but I promise that it will (Herondale) get better . . . at least, I _hope_ it will (Herondale). Oh! Also, I apologize for not being able to send out my thank-you PMs to you guys! I was utterly distracted by the book. Gomen. u.u

But, I just want you to know that **I greatly appreciated your reviews and everything that you guys have done for this story**! :) It always warms my heart.

May I please have your jem (Carstairs) of a **review**? :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

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><p><strong>Summer Love<strong>

**PART V**

"Where are you going?" Elena asked, sitting on her friend's messy bed.

"To the grocery store," Bonnie said. She grabbed her sunscreen and put a white blob on her thighs before wiping them with her palms.

"I want to go!" Elena exclaimed, abruptly jumping up from the bed and clutching Bonnie's wrists, immobilizing her from any movement; such as spreading the sunscreen on her left leg.

"But I thought you were going to help Stefan find a surfboard," Bonnie said, looking up at her friend.

"And I thought you were coming along!" Elena said, shaking her friend's wrists. "Why the sudden change of plans?"

"Damon asked me to go to the grocery store with him," Bonnie replied.

"Asked or _ordered_?" Elena asked sarcastically. She tightened her grip around her wrists. "We still haven't talked about those two in a you-know-what manner," she whispered.

"In an analyzing-if-they're-our-type manner?" Bonnie whispered back, her eyes wide. Elena wordlessly nodded her head once. "We have to do it," Bonnie whispered urgently. "Quick."

"Right." Elena pulled Bonnie towards the bed and they both sat on the edge. The redhead glanced at the wall clock above her dark wooden dressing table and decided that she has ten minutes—at maximum. Before she goes down to meet with Damon.

"Let's start with Damon," Elena said, dropping Bonnie's wrists.

Bonnie instantly replied. "Hot." Then she began rubbing the remains of the sunscreen on her left leg.

"Handsome."

"Fit and muscled."

Elena raised an eyebrow. Bonnie blushed and smiled shyly. "I saw him this morning. Shirtless."

"No- you're kidding!" Elena whispered-squealed-yelled, grinning. "Does he have abs?"

"Yes, he does. But I was wondering if he used make-up on it . . ." Bonnie trailed off, watching a look of amusement crossing her friend's face. "Oh never mind- personality."

"Manipulative."

"Blunt."

"Rude."

"Silent." Bonnie tied her curls in a high ponytail, but some of her hair immediately escaped the loose hold.

"Is he our type or not?" Elena asked, staring intently at her friend.

"Um," Bonnie paused and lifted her eyes to the white ceiling. "I guess he is. Sort of."

Elena made a face. "Yeah, _sort of_."

"Stefan," Bonnie quickly said. She has five or six minutes left on their scrutiny discussion. The petite female slipped her feet in her white flip flops and stood up to check her reflection on the mirror.

"Hot."

"Handsome."

"Looks lean and fit," Elena said, nodding. "What about his personality?"

"_Very_ friendly," Bonnie said while spraying her cologne thrice.

"Helpful."

"Considerate."

"Cool."

Bonnie sent her a look, almost equivalent to the look Elena sent her earlier. Elena smiled fondly. "I just talked to him this morning before I barged in your room."

The redhead rubbed her temples and closed her eyes, a concentrated expression on her face. "I see . . . a blooming romance between you and the younger Salvatore," she said in a low "psychic" (or fortune-telling) voice.

Elena blushed vaguely and ignored Bonnie. "Our type or not?"

"Definitely our type," she said, smiling. Bonnie glanced at the clock and jumped up, hurriedly. "Oh I have to go! Have fun with Stefan!" she exclaimed, running out of her door.

"I wish I could say the same thing for you with Damon!" Bonnie heard her friend call from her room as she rushed down the stairs.

"Took you long enough, _cara_," he said when she reached the front door. Bonnie simply blushed and huffed, snubbing him as she strolled outside the beach house.

The day was warm once again. The blue sky was cloudless, so the sun was shining clearly with its bright yellow beams. A couple of people walked past them, some girls shot flirty looks towards the older Salvatore's direction (in which he returned just as flirtatiously), and a man on a bicycle selling newspapers smiled at their direction. Bonnie and Damon continued to stand at the front of the beach house.

"Well?" Damon asked, his tone laced with impatience. He placed his hands in the pockets of his plaid dark shorts. Briefly, Bonnie examined his appearance. He was gorgeous, still, with his dark mussed hair and white shirt with some Italian logo on it. His dark shorts reached two or three inches under his knees and his lips were pressed in an intolerant frown.

"Well what?" Bonnie asked, tilting her head to the side as another person passed them.

"Aren't you going to take me to a grocery store?" he asked.

"I thought you knew where to go!" she exclaimed, wringing her hands.

"If you haven't realized yet, I'm foreign to this place," Damon said nonchalantly.

"Hmph," Bonnie muttered, glaring ahead of her. Without a word to the man behind her, the redhead began their journey towards the grocery store. The store, luckily, was only a few blocks away. Damon followed languidly behind her, his eyes staring at the back of her red head.

She sure is small, he thought while weaving through the thin crowd. Small, a bit shy, kind of impulsive, and . . . very innocent. _Too_ innocent. She needs someone to protect her—unless she already has one. Damon pushed the thoughts away.

Under the heat, Bonnie wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and slid her fingers in her short hair. It's so _hot_. She rounded a corner and glanced over her shoulder, seeing Damon round the corner as well. A few more steps and the redhead stopped, turning to face Damon. "Here's the grocery store." Bonnie looked up at the sign. "Er, a mini one anyway."

Damon shrugged and opened the door, inclining his head to the side. "Get in."

Bonnie jumped at the command but scuttled inside the store, the cool air hitting her body as Damon trailed behind her. Well, he's a gentleman . . . in a way, she thought absentmindedly. The smell of coffee and French fries drifted to her senses and her mouth instantly watered.

The dark-haired man fell into step beside her, surveying the small grocery store. It was a modest-sized grocery store actually; with five aisles of food and a couple of fridges at the back. There was a hotdog-French fry-burger stand at the front, next to the cashier. There was also a small donut-counter by the magazines stand at their far left, which was next to a coffee maker machine.

"Damon?" she called quietly, tipping her chin upwards so she could look at him.

"What?" Damon asked, tearing his gaze away from the bags of chips on his right. He looked down at her, realizing for the first time that her eyes were a clear brown—with dark circles outlining her irises.

"Why do you want to buy food?" she asked. In her mind, it didn't sound as stupid as it did when she voiced it out. So she quickly added, "I mean, there's tons of food in the kitchen. And I could've cooked you something . . ."

"I don't like preservatives," he said, grabbing a bag of original flavored Utz.

"But you eat them here and there, right?" Bonnie asked. Damon took another bag of chips and shrugged, ending any conversation between them. Not very chatty, Bonnie thought as he turned his back on her, examining the other chips.

"Grab me a basket," he ordered, not glancing at her. Bonnie nodded and bit back a sigh. What a heartless master, she thought. No thank-you's, no please; just "Grab me this" or "Wash that" . . . he's so frustrating sometimes!

And yet she still doesn't understand why she's attracted to him.

"Here," she said, thrusting the basket to his side. With the force she applied to her thrust, Damon should've flinched. But Bonnie only yelped in pain at the hard muscles her delicate fingers collided with. At this, Damon chuckled, an amazing smirk on his face.

"Next time, try using a little more force if you wanted a different reaction," he remarked before putting the bags of chips in the basket.

For the second time that day, Bonnie paid no attention to his statement and said, "What you're getting is unhealthy."

"So is your breakfast this morning," he replied casually, strolling beside her.

Bonnie ignored him again. "I'm going to get more nutella," she said and stepped ahead of him. A quick movement stopped Bonnie from going any further. She gasped in surprise and glanced behind her, looking at Damon with wide eyes. He only sent her that curved smile again.

"You're not going anywhere, _cara_," he said, pulling her by the wrist. Damon loosened his grip around her wrist and eventually let go. "I didn't give you any permission to go anywhere," he said casually, entering the second aisle. Bonnie sulked behind him, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at his shoes.

Noticing the mood of the beautiful redhead behind him, Damon glimpsed over his shoulder and rolled his eyes.

For the rest of the grocery trip, Bonnie had moped silently beside Damon, not heeding what he was putting in the basket because he practically claimed _ownership_ over her liberty and did not even try to converse with her! In fact, Bonnie had just about daydreamed for the rest of the trip. When they got home, Elena and Stefan were nowhere to be found.

"Here, put this in the kitchen," Damon said, handing the grocery bags to her.

Bonnie nodded, settling on giving him the silent treatment. Damon stared at her for a moment, his eyes focused on her expressionless face and shrugged. "I'm going to take a nap. Have fun Bon," he said, smiling mockingly. With that, the handsome man jogged up the stairs, leaving Bonnie with two bags of groceries.

She sighed and dragged her feet towards the kitchen. He is so _mean_. It was no wonder Elena didn't like him in the first place. The redhead gently placed the bags on the kitchen countertop and pulled the contents out. Why is he like that? Is he lonely? Or is he just a handsome sadist? Are sadists even handsome? Why would-

All of her thoughts stopped at once as she lifted a container to her face. She turned it around to read the label.

_Nutella_.

With a little smile, Bonnie dismissed the previous thoughts in her head and quickly placed the food in their rightful places in the kitchen.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Happy Friday the thirteenth! I hope your day went well! Mine didn't, at first, because I only had a few hours of sleep (due to a nightmare that kept me up until my alarm went off) . . . and then I dropped my cello because I wasn't paying attention to it, and then I bumped into a lot of people because I was so sleepy, and then I got teased by my fellow cellists because I apparently seem "close" to my other guy fellow cellist, and then my hair was all frizzy- but in the end, _THE ORCHESTRA GOT A ONE IN THE FESTIVAL. _Do you know what this means? It means that we're qualified to enter the STATE FESTIVAL and we got the highest score possible in this recent festival and- oh fine, I'll stop rambling now.

How was _your _Friday the thirteenth? I want to know how your day went, so if you feel like rambling to me (as I have done), then feel free! You know, I can never pronounce that right. Friday the Thirteenth. AH, ANYWAY **THANKS SO MUCH GUYS FOR THE REVIEWS AND FOR EVERYTHING**! I'm sorry for my maundering! And I'm sorry if the characters are OOC!

. . . **review**? I'll be partying all night long since the orchestra received a ONE. OH YEAH. \m/


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

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><p><strong>Summer Love<strong>

**PART VI**

Damon stared at the cool ceiling fan above him. There were ceiling fans in every room in this beach house. He found them really nice, especially at times like these.

As usual, the temperature outside was hot; but in the mornings, they were startlingly breezy. Even so, Damon likes the fan's cool air fanning his face. It was probably 6:30AM. Or 5:30AM. He was suffering from jet lags (and he's assuming that he'll suffer it for a few more days). Yesterday, when the clock read 6:50PM, he was already in bed—considering that it was 11:50PM in Florence, Italy. And so, right now, it was probably 11:30 or 10:30 in the morning there.

Stupid jet lags.

He pushed the white blankets down to his knees and sat up, stretching his arms overhead. Damon glanced at the digital clock by his night stand and sighed loudly. It was 5:40AM. Damn it, this is early. What should he do now?

Damon dropped back down the bed, automatically thinking of the redhead. She was entertaining yesterday; moping around like that and trying to strike up a conversation. When he saw the look of irritation on her face, Damon wanted to laugh.

Because she looked so damn cute.

Particularly, that time when he told her that she can't go around as she pleases. After all, she _is_ their maid (for as long as the girls stay in the beach house anyway). The girl had a nice, sweet voice. More or less like a songbird.

Songbird, he thought while smirking distractedly. Maybe that should be her new nickname. It fits her nicely. Bonnie suits her quite nicely as well, seeing as her name means "pretty" in Scottish. And, no doubt, she _is_ pretty.

His thoughts drifted to another pretty girl he fell in love with. Her name was Katherine Pierce. And Elena Gilbert was a spitting image of her. Katherine, however, was a mistake that he can't forget. She fed him lies, used him, and worst of all . . . she did all those things to get his brother.

He was angry at his brother, yes, but his brother didn't even realize that the blonde girl was pining after him. Damon was angry at himself too—for falling in love with her and letting her use him as she pleased. So, when every single intention of hers surfaced, he broke up with her and left her. With no money, no shelter, no _nothing_. She was alone. Stefan, of course, supported his brother even though he felt guilty for abandoning his friend.

It has been six months since that happened, and Damon hasn't fully recovered from its effects. Her kisses were warm and sweet and loving (but fake). Katherine Pierce was the one that broke him and tore him to pieces. Since then, Damon had been bitter.

It was only two months ago when Stefan suggested a trip to America; just so he could clear his mind. Secretly, he was glad for his brother's support but never voiced out his gratitude. Instead, he would do things to show his gratitude for Stefan. Stefan understood what he was trying to say.

And then-

_Thud, thud, thud, thud_.

"Ow!"

Damon moved off his bed right away, heading outside his hallway. There, at the bottom of the stairs, was Bonnie . . . lying on the floor and rubbing her elbows. Quickly, Damon went down the stairs and kneeled by her small form; gently grabbing her arm to pull her up. Bonnie somewhat yelped in pain, putting her small hands on his shoulders instead and pulling herself up.

"You alright?" Damon asked, keeping any tone of concern out of his voice.

"Fine, thanks. Just a little sore," Bonnie mumbled, kneeling as well. She was wearing her night gown, the strap on her left shoulder sliding down her arm as she cupped her elbows with her small hands.

"You fell?" he asked, having this urge to brush her hair out of her face. He unconsciously clenched his teeth, realizing that she wasn't wearing a bra.

Bonnie pressed her lips together and nodded, blushing diffidently. "Sorry to wake you up," she apologized timidly. She was _sure_ that he was going to mock her . . . or insult her . . . just do _something_ to make her feel bad.

Damon shrugged and pushed himself up from the floor. He offered a hand and she took it, mumbling a "thanks" before awkwardly standing in front of him. She suddenly forgot why she was downstairs.

"Why are you up at this time?" he asked. From what he gathered about her, he believed that she wakes up no earlier than 7:30AM.

"I . . ." Bonnie trailed off, at loss of what to say. Why did she want to go downstairs again? Bonnie racked her brain. Then she heard it. The sound of dolphins.

"Dolphins!" she said happily and turned around, heading towards the back door in the kitchen.

Damon followed swiftly, a frown crossing his face. A moment of déjà vu wrapped around them when Damon grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer to him. He resisted the urge to pull her closer. Her body was lightly pressed to his and it was so _soft_. And it was tempting him . . . so badly.

He forced himself to focus on the task at hand. "You're going outside looking like _that_?" he asked, gesturing to her nightgown . . . which was made of light fabric. Damon didn't know why, but he was going to make sure to destroy the eyesight of any male that sees her in this state. In this very . . . captivating state.

The way he asked that question made Bonnie self-conscious. It was as if he's implying that she looks ugly! Does she really look ugly? Bonnie always knew that she was average-looking . . . but Damon was one of the few who imply that she's ugly. And it's really hurting her self-esteem. Bonnie blinked back the unexpected tears that were in her eyes. Biting her lip, she shook her head.

Not anymore, she thought as she brought her eyes down.

She saw his throat move and then heard, "At least put a _bra_ on. God, woman," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. He averted his eyes to the side and dropped his hand. "Go wear something decent." He stepped aside to let her pass. But her questioning gaze stopped him from moving any further.

"Why?" she asked quietly; nearly uncertain.

"Just do it," he said firmly and strolled over to the kitchen.

At that moment, Bonnie realized that he was wearing a shirt and the same sweatpants from yesterday. Her heart pounded oddly in her chest as she scurried up the stairs and in her room. Damon is so . . . _weird_. Maybe it's because she couldn't understand his personality. One minute, he's rude and obnoxious, then he's clandestinely sweet the next.

Five minutes later, Bonnie entered the kitchen in a pair of dark shorts and loose shirt, flip flops on her feet. Damon was still in the kitchen, now drinking his mug of coffee. He inclined his head towards the back door. "Come on."

Bewilderment crossed her eyes and she silently nodded, unlocking the door and pushing it open.

"You better hurry up," Damon said, already behind her. He lightly pushed her out of the way and closed the door, his mug of coffee in his left hand.

"Where are we going?" Bonnie asked, the confusion growing larger.

"To watch the dolphins," he said with a shrug. He nodded once at her, his dark eyes staring intently on her blushing face. "Go ahead. I'll follow," he muttered, taking a slow gulp of his coffee.

Her heart was pounding so loud that she was certain he could hear it. Damon, however, didn't show any signs of hearing it as they walked towards the beach. The sun was at the end of the sky, ready to rise and remove the darkness. The soft, grainy sand lightly scratched their toes and flip flops, its light tan color looking pale in the dimness.

As they neared the wet sand in silence, Bonnie concluded that Damon wasn't really a mean guy. He just . . . probably didn't know how to express his feelings well with words. Does that mean, she thought with giddiness, that he has feelings for me?

Of course, that couldn't possibly happen since they've only been in each other's company for three days. It's not enough to spark love . . . but it was enough to spark a blossoming attraction. Bonnie was definitely counting the eggs before they hatched.

It was probably 6:20AM now, she thought at random.

The wet sand felt cool when she slipped out of her flip flops and dug her toes in the sand, wiggling it. She sat down on the wet sand, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs. Damon didn't sit down; he simply stood there, gazing at the playing dolphins in the deep water. He sipped his coffee quietly, his face indifferent to the happy, chatting dolphins.

All of a sudden, as Bonnie glanced at Damon's side profile, she felt a twinge of sadness at the hard lines of his mouth, the endless depths of darkness in his eyes, and the uncaring mask he often wore as he resumed to view the joyful dolphins.

With a solid decision, Bonnie reluctantly grabbed his right wrist and lightly tugged him towards the wet sand. "Come on and sit down, Damon," she said as casually as she could.

He glanced at her, a flash of wonder in his dark eyes before going back to its normal apathetic state. Damon gracefully sat down beside her, his shoulder bumping against hers as he let his legs stretch out in front of him. He placed his hands on either side of him and slightly leaned back, putting the now-empty mug on the sand.

"Do you like it here _now_?" Bonnie asked, her eyes sliding from him and to the show that the dolphins were giving them.

"In a way," he said.

A dolphin jumped up and Bonnie smiled, giggling softly. Damon took a look at her smiling face, her pureness intensifying. She looked so beautiful; her curly hair sticking up here and there—but framed her face wonderfully—her small nose making her appear like those angels in the paintings, her pink lips and cheeks—giving her the appearance of a baby—in a wide smile. She was definitely beautiful.

When the dolphin show ended, Bonnie and Damon headed back to the beach house in comfortable silence. Stefan and Elena never knew that the two watched the dolphins that morning.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **It's Friday again! :) I'm sorry I haven't replied to your reviews guys! Since it's almost the end of the school year, finals and HSAs and the likes are abundant. :I And because I'm going into freshman this fall, my grades are EXTREMELY important. Ergo, I have to study frequently. :I Can't afford distractions, but I won't stop updating, don't worry. There's approximately 7 weeks of school left for moi, and I've got . . . shit, four and a half chapters finished? Damn, I gotta work on this story if I want to update regularly! But IF I don't update on the fourth Friday from now, then you know what happened.

**Review? Thanks guys so much! **I greatly appreciate the reviews and everything you've done for this story! :) And thank you so much guys for wishing us luck for the State Festival! :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

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><p><strong>Summer Love<strong>

**PART VII**

"Can we go to the beach party?" Elena asked, directing the question to Stefan.

Two weeks had passed since their agreement was created. Two weeks had passed since the Salvatore brothers arrived in America and became the girls' "masters." Two weeks had passed since Bonnie's blossoming feelings for Damon started. It was obvious that Elena and Stefan were interested to one another . . . but it wasn't obvious to the two of them themselves.

"Idiots," Damon had told Bonnie a week ago, shaking his head with a genuine smile. "My brother and that blonde are idiots."

Bonnie had to giggle because; one) Damon rarely initiates conversations with her (unless they were orders—although she likes to think of them as requests), two) he rarely smiles—in a genuine manner too, and three) he called his brother and Elena idiots. It's just funny.

Anyway, the past two weeks were fine and virtually . . . _normal. _The guys sometimes made them do chores and cook . . . but that's about it. They didn't make them massage their feet, cut their hair_—_nothing. __The Salvatore brothers were complete gentlemen too. Well, except for Damon to Elena. Bonnie couldn't understand why though.

The redhead also noticed that the Salvatore brothers always stuck with one of them. Stefan with Elena, and Damon with Bonnie. The girls had talked about this and concluded one thing; attraction. Even Elena thinks that Damon is attracted to Bonnie (Bonnie denied vigorously, supporting her statement with weak evidence)! _But maybe Damon is just really nice in the inside, _Bonnie would argue_._

In fact, the girls didn't even _feel _like maids. They felt like . . . they were all roommates residing in one big house. It was a nice feeling for Bonnie and Elena. And maybe Stefan too. Damon, on the other hand, they were clueless about_._

"Please?" Elena pleaded, looking at Stefan.

Stefan shrugged. "Sure, go ahead."

"But I want you guys to come with me," Elena said, glancing at Bonnie and Stefan; purposefully ignoring Damon. He never liked her. And she didn't even _do _anything to him! The dark-haired man didn't mind the blonde's hostile attitude and only read the newspaper_._

"I . . . don't know," Bonnie said quietly, swiftly glancing at Damon.

"You said it has a bar, right?" Damon asked, not looking up from the newspaper.

"Yup," Elena said.

Stefan raised his eyebrows. His brother hadn't been near a bar for a long while now (he was actually grateful for it), so he wondered what changed his mind. He hoped it was for good intentions . . . but then again, are there ever good intentions in bars?

"I'll go then," he said, turning the page to the sports section. "Holy shit," he muttered. "Stefan, look at this," he said, slamming the newspaper on the table and pointing at the sports headline. He began talking in Italian, an annoyed lilt in his voice, and Stefan replied with an incredulous stream of Italian words as well. The younger Salvatore strolled over to the table and read the sports article, with Damon muttering a few curses in Italian.

Bonnie and Elena exchanged amused looks and bit back giggles at the comical scene.

* * *

><p>The party was at six in the evening. Damon strolled in his shower and shut the door, his teeth clenched as he thought of what he's going to do tonight.<p>

He was going to find some fling, or flings, to distract himself from the redhead getting ready in a room across from his. Why was he doing this? Well, it's quite simple really.

He's going to leave America in a couple of weeks—by the start of August to be specific (and it was already mid-June)—which means that he'll never see her again. He could always make plans and arrangements to go here every summer. But that's just it. Summer. Damon didn't want the little songbird to get hurt; he might as well end any developing feelings tonight. Plus, she's a little bit too young for him.

Why can't everything be perfect for once?

Oh he was probably going to hell for this. Damon turned on the very hot water and cursed at the sudden shot of pain on his skin. It was for the better, he thought.

By seven o'clock, the four house-mates walked out of the beach house and took a relaxing walk towards the beach. Elena and Stefan had their shoulders grazing one another as they walked, conversing in low volumes. Bonnie and Damon, on the contrary, were walking in silence. An unusual one at that.

"Are you okay?" Bonnie asked, her eyes worried.

Damon shrugged, keeping his face unreadable. "I'm fine."

Something was telling her that he's _not _fine, but Bonnie didn't want to pry. "Okay," she said quietly. "Well, if there's something wrong, you should talk to m- Stefan about it," she said, nearly letting the word "me" slip_._

A twitch on the side of his lips told Bonnie that he caught the supposed-to-be-slip. "Don't worry about me," he said . . . a bit stern. But his smirk was saying that he appreciated her concern.

"Okay," she said again, blushing and fiddling with her hands.

When they reached the crowd of youngsters, Elena and Stefan drifted away from the other pair and walked around the beach, smiling and laughing all the while. Damon envied them. Bonnie adored their casualness. She wondered if Damon would be willing to smile and laugh like that with her.

To her disappointment, Damon excused himself from her to go mingle with the other people in the bar. Bonnie gulped and nodded, walking away from the crowd to sit on the shore. Her tunic top was probably getting ruined with sand but she didn't care.

Damon was flirting with other girls. She shouldn't be jealous because he's not even _hers. _Her heart ached and she fisted the slightly damp sand underneath her. But she was jealous that he would talk to other people on his own accord. He wouldn't even start a conversation with __her__! Did she miss something? Does he not like her? Did she do something wrong? Is something wrong with her? Before tears could escape her eyes, Bonnie blinked it away and stretched her legs in front of her, the tips of her big toes touching the water. She took her shoes off earlier. It was merely sitting beside her___.___

"Hey," a deep voice said, making her look up. She hoped her eyes didn't look watery.

"Hi," she said quietly, beaming faintly. She could hear her mother's voice telling her not to talk to strangers but Bonnie was too distracted to heed the warning. Plus, the guy didn't seem so bad.

"May I sit here with you?" he asked. The man has broad shoulders, tall, and muscular with dark hair and eyes. His skin looked pale in the darkness. He was giving her a friendly smile.

"Sure, I don't mind," she said absently, looking back to the sea. It looked black. Maybe it was a sign. A sign for what though? Bitter tears? Were angry tears even black?

"You sure seem lonely. Why aren't you mingling with the other people there?" he asked, indicating to the crowd of people in the party with his dark eyes.

"I don't talk to strangers," Bonnie said instead, anxiety crawling up her arms.

"Sorry, I'm Tyler Smallwood," he said.

"Bonnie McCullough," she automatically said. Damn it, Bonnie thought, why did I introduce myself?

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Tyler said.

"You too," she replied. Awkward silence ensued and Tyler glanced at the pretty redhead beside him. She was probably one of the prettiest girls he had seen so far. She didn't appear like a talkative type (at the moment), so he was surprised when she asked him a question.

"What are you doing here at the beach?" she asked, finally focusing her clear brown eyes on the tall guy beside her.

"I'm a lifeguard. Well, actually, I live here," he said. "Just down the block. What about you, Bonnie?"

"Summer vacation," she said with a small smile.

He raised his eyebrows, disappointment briefly showing in his eyes, "Oh? So you live far away from here?"

"Not exactly _far-_far away," she said, giggling softly_._

Her giggle was sweet and pure; it was making Tyler like her even more. "Ah, like in the same state?"

"Yup," Bonnie replied, her heart aching at the thought of distance. Damon would be hundreds and thousands of miles away from her in a couple of weeks . . .

The night was spent separately; Elena and Stefan walking along the beach, Damon easily flirting with the ladies, and Bonnie talking to Tyler. By the end of the night, Tyler and Bonnie had exchanged their phone numbers, Elena and Stefan had grown closer (enough to finally make their feelings evident to one another), and Damon had eyed the tissues with phone numbers in his back pockets.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Next week's May! Dang, time sure goes by fast! I hoped you guys liked the chapter! I just finished thanking y'alls via PM; but, gosh, I can't express HOW MUCH I want to thank you guys! **Thank you oh so much!** Oh, there's gonna be an extra scene at the end of the story . . . about Damon's underwear. But ya know. ;)

**I really appreciate EVERYTHING you guys have done for the story **(reading it, reviewing, favorite-ing, etc.)**!**

**Review?** (^^) Domo arigato!


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

><p><strong>Summer Love<strong>

**PART VIII**

Bonnie and Damon grew distant over the course of a week. He still takes her to the grocery store with him, but their contact has been less and less. It was like they were avoiding each other. Elena and Stefan weren't as ignorant as they seemed. They were seeing the changes in the two, Damon getting moodier and Bonnie getting more emotional. Girls had been dropping by daily since the party. And Tyler has been stopping over regularly to have a chat with Bonnie. There was obviously something wrong with them.

So, by the first day of July, Elena cornered Bonnie in her bedroom and interrogated her.

"What's up with you and Damon, huh?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"What do you mean?" Bonnie asked as uninterestedly as she could.

"You _know_ what I mean," Elena said. "What's up with the girls stopping by? And what's up with Tyler having a chat with you almost every other day, if not daily?"

"Nothing," Bonnie said, shrugging. Her phone beeped. She glanced at it and smiled faintly, "It's Tyler." She quickly read the text message and dropped on her bed, texting rapidly. "He's asking me out tonight."

"Don't tell me you're going to say yes," Elena groaned.

Bonnie raised her head from her pillows and glared at Elena momentarily. She dropped her head back on her pillow, giggling when Tyler sent her another message.

"What about Damon?" Elena asked, trying to knock some sense into her friend.

"What _about_ Damon?" Bonnie asked, locking her phone and placing it on her night stand. "He has you guys. And other girls," she said.

"Don't you like him?" the blonde asked, watching her friend uncaringly wave her hand in the air.

"So what if I do? It's not like something would happen," Bonnie mumbled, closing her eyes and placing the back of her hand on her forehead.

Elena couldn't believe what she was hearing. Bonnie was usually optimistic, but . . . she's acting really strange nowadays. Ever since the party. Maybe she shouldn't have begged to go to the party. She just wanted an excuse to walk with Stefan—oh God, she was so selfish. Maybe if she didn't do that . . . then Bonnie and Damon would still be their normal selves . . . Elena bit her lip. Maybe it _is_ her fault.

"I'm sorry," Elena apologized silently. She was going to plan something to get these two together. She _has_ to. It wasn't just affecting the two morons in love, it was affecting her and Stefan as well! Damn it, she ruined this big time. "I hope you . . . have fun tonight," she said.

"Thanks Elena," Bonnie said as Elena closed the door.

* * *

><p>"Guys, look." Elena ushered Bonnie inside the living room.<p>

Damon looked up from the newspaper when he smelled the perfume that Bonnie wears. He was determined to ignore her presence (and his feelings) but when he smelled the sweet perfume that the redhead wears . . .

The inside of his mouth was suddenly moist and watery, his dark eyes taking in the curves that the summer dress accented. He swallowed and raised the paper over his eyes, "Where are you going?" he asked.

"For your information, she's going on a date with Tyler," Elena announced, noticing the little twitch of Damon's fingers.

Stefan, as oblivious as Bonnie at the moment, raised an eyebrow. "The lifeguard?"

"Mhm," Bonnie mumbled, blushing. She could _not_ believe that Elena made her get inside the damn living room—_knowing_ that Damon was inside—to show off the dress she bought for Bonnie.

Elena wagged her eyebrows, smiling. "Doesn't the dress look good on her? I bet Tyler wouldn't be able to keep his eyes off of her," she said, not wanting to add that Tyler may not be able to keep his hands off her as well. Bonnie would fight him off, Elena thought with definite conviction.

Damon lowered his paper, locking his gaze with Bonnie's. "Have a great time," he said before going back to reading the article.

Her eyes welled up but she forced a smile, thanking Damon. A knock resounded from the door and everyone knew that it was Tyler Smallwood.

Hours ticked by, and when it was 11:30PM, Tyler and Bonnie walked back to the beach house. They ate dinner at a small diner a few blocks from the beach house and strolled for the rest of the night. Bonnie had a fun time, to be honest. She burned calories and she was on a date. How amazing is that?

"I had a great time tonight," Tyler was saying.

Bonnie agreed. And then it was silence. It was obviously the time for the kiss. And so, Tyler leaned closer . . . slow . . . but sure. He cupped her cheek and was a breath away from crushing his lips to hers. She wasn't complaining; and to Tyler, that was all that matters.

"Tyler-"

He pressed his lips against hers, his eyes closed. Bonnie fleetingly shut her eyes, but after three seconds, she felt Tyler run his tongue across her lips. The redhead pulled away, placing a hand on his hard chest.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking down. How can she tell him that she didn't want to lead him on? And just become friends?

Tyler stepped back, putting her at arm's length. "Right," he muttered, glaring at the ground.

"Tyler, please don't be like that," Bonnie said softly, looking at her sandals. The silence was ill at ease. "Um, I'll . . . see you around?"

"Right," he said again, an uncomfortable smile on his face. "See you around, Bon." With that, Tyler jogged down the steps and Bonnie watched him until he was gone from her sight. With a troubled sigh, she pushed the key inside the front door and stepped in, leaning on the door to close it.

"Do you always linger outside with your boyfriends?" Damon asked, running a hand through his hair and glaring at her. He took a few steps towards her. He was almost trapping her between the door and his body; _almost_.

"Tyler and I didn't linger outside," Bonnie said.

"Then why were you two necking outside the damn house?" he asked angrily. It was a good thing that Elena and Stefan were asleep.

"_Necking_?" Bonnie asked, startled. "You, the one with girls coming over to say '_hi_,' accuse _me_ of necking?" she asked, immediately annoyed. Why was he angry at her? And how the hell would _he _know if she and Tyler made out? That's not even making-out! He should know from experience!

He just walked out from the living room, and from the living room you can see the front porch very clearly . . . if you were staring outside the window. She gasped, "You spied on me, didn't you?"

Damon waved his hand offhandedly. "I wasn't spying on you."

"Then what _were_ you doing?" Bonnie asked.

"I happened to look out the window," Damon said. The redhead couldn't tell whether or not he was lying because she didn't know if the blinds were open.

"You're being unreasonable right now, Damon," she said softly. Maybe, by saying that, he'll finally come to his senses and let her go. Alas, it didn't happen.

He stepped closer. "Don't ever call me unreasonable," Damon murmured darkly, his eyes narrowing. It would've frozen her to the spot if she didn't find it so appealing. Bonnie shook her head and slipped away, heading towards the stairs.

"Good night, Damon." Then she started to make her way up the stairs.

"Bonnie." He hardly calls her by her real name. Damon always called her with weird nicknames, such as; Little Red, Redbird, Songbird, Redhead . . . etc. But rarely her _real_ name. This must be serious.

The redhead turned around, stopping on the third step of the staircase; her body tense as she eyed Damon. He crossed the short distance that separated them and he used his forefinger and thumb to gently tip her chin upwards. Lightly, he rubbed his thumb over her lower lip; leaning closer and closer . . .

And then he kissed her.

Damon was patient; his soft lips moving against hers tolerantly as she slid her hands from his chest around his shoulders to tangle her fingers in his dark locks. He groaned, pulling away before crushing his lips against hers again; this time, more hungrily. He pulled Bonnie against his chest and deepened the kiss, his hand sliding from her chin to her neck. They pulled away after a few moments of the searing kiss.

The older Salvatore kissed her forehead, as if he was desperately trying to keep her there. Bonnie laid her cheek on his chest and struggled to get her breathing right. She slid her right hand over his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart.

"I've been wanting to do that for weeks," he muttered, tightening his arms around her.

Bonnie felt the same way, however, she was absolutely confused with what just happened. Why would he do that? She decided to ignore her reasonable side for now. And maybe for the rest of the summer. "I'm tired now," she whispered, bringing her face up. Damon leaned down and kissed her chastely.

"I'll see you in the morning then," he whispered against her temple.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Happy Friday! I forgot that it was Friday today because I didn't go to school, so I'm so sorry for the late update! Although it's still Friday in my area . . . anyway, I'm absolutely sorry I haven't thanked you guys personally (once again! u_u)! I'm still reading the Hunger Games series while trying to balance out school . . . but **thank you guys so much for everything! **I'll try to reply to y'alls this week!

**Review? **:)


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

><p><strong>Summer Love<strong>

**PART IX**

The next morning, Bonnie entered the kitchen and saw Damon reading a newspaper with a cup of coffee in front of him. He was sitting on a chair by the dining table.

"Morning," she greeted, walking over to the fridge to get some milk.

"Morning," he said, not looking up from his paper.

Bonnie headed for the fridge and took out a gallon of low-fat milk. She checked the expiration date. 07-25-2012, it said. The redhead got a glass from the cupboard, walking past Damon. His hand reached out and securely clasped around her waist, pulling her on his lap. Before Bonnie could protest, Damon had already pressed his lips firmly on hers.

Color went up to her cheeks when the kiss ended. She placed her small hand on his broad shoulder, straightened, and to hide how flustered she was feeling, she asked, "What was that for?"

He smirked amusedly, a roguish glint in his dark eyes. "Just to say good morning," he said in low, husky voice. "I don't have these opportunities to kiss you often . . . in such a pleasant way too," he muttered, patting her thigh.

Her face was fully red when Stefan entered. Fortunately enough, Bonnie had already moved off Damon's lap and Damon resumed reading. She poured herself a cup of white milk, turning her back on Stefan—although the younger Salvatore already saw the state of her face.

He blinked slowly, his perceptive green eyes shifting from Bonnie's back to his brother's blasé behavior. "Morning," he greeted quietly.

"Morning," Bonnie greeted back, her voice a bit too high. Her back was still facing him as she drank her milk.

Damon didn't acknowledge his brother; but Stefan was used to his brother's quiet greetings. Stefan continued to stand by the entrance of the kitchen. "Are you guys on speaking terms now?" he asked curiously, nearly like a little boy asking his parents if they made up. Bonnie choked on her milk.

His older brother only gave him a look, rolling his eyes. He pulled the newspaper over his face and spoke. "We've _been_ on speaking terms, brother."

"Oh?" Stefan asked, relaxing his shoulders while sitting across his brother.

"Si," Damon muttered.

Not a minute later, Elena entered and saw the trio in the kitchen. "Morning," she said, yawning and stretching her arms over her head. She ambled towards her friend and stood beside her, their arms brushing. The blonde looked down at her friend and blinked slowly, seeing her friend's pink face. "What's up with you?" When Bonnie blushed and spluttered incoherent words, Elena decided to tease her. "What, Damon's got your tongue?"

At this, Bonnie was practically at overheating point. She was blushing so hard that Damon pulled the newspaper down and glared at Elena. "Stop that," he ordered and continued reading.

The blonde didn't feel offended. In truth, she was feeling very giddy that Damon was paying attention to Bonnie. She wondered what made them act like this. Maybe it was the dress last night. Or maybe it was Tyler. Well, whatever it was, Elena was glad to have these two back in their old selves.

"Oh fine, I'll just drill you in about it later," Elena muttered and Bonnie giggled, smiling shyly. "So," the blonde said, loud enough for the Salvatore's to hear, "tomorrow's the fourth of July . . ."

"Oh I forgot about that!" Bonnie exclaimed, bringing the cup down on the counter. "What should we do tomorrow? Do you think there's a parade here?" she asked Elena. The brothers appeared to be bewildered, not familiar with America's Independence Day.

"Fourth of July," Stefan said thoughtfully. Damon flipped the page and raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that the . . ."

"America's Independence Day," Damon said, glancing at his brother. His brother shrugged, heading towards the warmed water in the kettle. The younger Salvatore poured himself some warm (kind of cool) water and put a tablespoon of coffee granules in his mug. Clearly, the two didn't know how significant the event is.

"We should ask the locals if they have a parade here," Elena said, hoisting herself up on the counter. "Or if they do anything special for the Fourth of July."

"Let's do that after we eat breakfast!" Bonnie exclaimed excitedly. She was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"_After_ you girls do our laundry," Damon said. Bonnie pouted cutely. Elena scowled at Damon. Stefan repressed a sigh at his brother's "good deeds" (as Damon liked to call it).

"I'll help with the laundry," muttered Stefan. He never liked doing laundries. But he never liked bothering anyone to _do_ his laundry for him either. And he undoubtedly doesn't like to make girls do his chores for him.

Damon rolled his dark eyes and placed the newspaper on the table. He leaned back on his chair, crossing his arms. "You're too magnanimous, Stefan," he said with a shake of his head. Bonnie pondered on the big word he used but decided that it was probably a . . . nice word. Maybe he tends to compliment Stefan in insulting or disappointed tones. Bonnie shrugged it off. She'll just look in a dictionary.

"But Bonnie and I always plan out what to do for the Fourth of July!" Elena cried indignantly.

Damon simply shrugged. "You ladies are staying here for free," he reminded her. "And I'm doing a good deed by letting you girls stay here without paying us some _cash_."

Elena glared and gritted her teeth. Damon always had a way to ruin her mood. But Stefan had promised to take her out today, which immediately brought her spirits up. "Whatever," she muttered.

"So, about tomorrow . . ." Bonnie placed her cup in the sink.

"Don't worry about it," Elena said, smiling brightly. Damon watched the blonde beam at the redhead; remembering a time when Katherine smiled at him like that. His heart slightly ached.

Stefan, noticing his brother's odd staring at Elena, cleared his throat so that all eyes are on him. "Maybe we could visit a restaurant tomorrow."

"Or go to the amusement park!" Elena said excitedly. Bonnie squealed eagerly, a big grin on her face. Both girls were oblivious to Damon's staring. Meanwhile, Damon mentally shook himself out of his memories and finished his cool mug of coffee. He was already healing from his broken heart—all thanks to Little Red—and he _definitely_ didn't want to go back to his desperate and damaged emotions.

"Just wash the clothes first," Damon muttered.

* * *

><p>Bonnie placed Damon's clothes in the washing machine. Remembering few of her first times washing his clothes, Bonnie held a grin on her face.<p>

Elena snuck up behind her and pinched her sides. Bonnie jumped and shrieked. "Oh my- don't ever do that again!" Bonnie exclaimed.

Her best friend grinned and shrugged. "Why were you grinning? Did you see his underwear or something?"

"He's a decent gentleman, mind you," Bonnie said stubbornly. "He puts his underwear in another pile because he does it himself."

"Maybe he's just too embarrassed," Elena snorted.

"Elena!" Bonnie scolded playfully, lightly hitting her friend's shoulder.

"Or maybe he goes commando," Elena said thoughtfully. She doubled over in laughter and leaned on the washing machine, still laughing. "Oh God, that's not hard to imagine."

Bonnie was blushing as she scolded her best friend, shooing her out of the laundry room. "You- you-" The little lady tried to push Elena out the entrance of the laundry room—but Elena dug her heels on the tiled floor to stop them from moving.

"Fine, I'll stop. I just wanted to discuss what we're going to do for tomorrow."

"Why not later?" Bonnie asked, pouting.

"Because I have a date with Stefan," Elena announced.

Bonnie jumped and squealed, grinning. "No way!"

"Yes way!" Elena squealed, jumping on the balls of her feet as well.

"Well what are you waiting for? _Spill_!" Bonnie exclaimed excitedly as they walked towards the washing machine.

"We were talking out at the back last night . . ." Elena started, a dreamy look on her face and a smile so big; it looked like it was going to split her face. Bonnie nodded, grinning widely while she put the rest of Damon's clothes in the washing machine.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Hey guys! I'm sorry I didn't update yesterday! I was on a whole-day field trip (I mentioned it in my PMs to the people who reviewed last chapter). I hope you guys enjoyed your Fridays! I sure did. Because I **rode the highest flippin' roller coaster in the world**; **Kingda Ka**. I was forced to go on there, so don't think I was willing. My friends had to literally drag me and use their hands to keep me from running away (I tried at least four times).

Btw, there was kind of a deleted scene from this story . . . I'll post it up as an extra. Or something. xD

**Review? Thanks so much guys for everything! I really appreciate it! **:D


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

><p><strong>Summer Love<strong>

**PART X**

The sun hasn't completely risen when Bonnie woke up. It was early in the morning, and she wondered why she's always waking up in such early hours. Maybe Damon's nickname of Redbird for her actually fits her. Because, you know, birds are usually up at this time . . . Anyway, while Bonnie stealthily came down the stairs in her silk nightgown, she reflected on the events that happened yesterday.

Elena and Stefan left as soon as the clothes were washed, dried, and folded neatly. Bonnie and Damon stayed home—it's funny how she and Elena refer to this beach house as home now—talking and watching TV. She found out that he was twenty-six years old, only five years older than her. She found out that he was a rising business man in Italy; an _heir_ to the Salvatore Corps that had been running there since the beginning of . . . well, long before the brothers were born.

And she found out why he disliked Elena.

Sitting on a stool and eating nutella for breakfast once again, Bonnie couldn't help but think back on that particular part of their conversation.

"Why do you hate Elena?" Bonnie had blurted out, turning her gaze to Damon's.

Damon immediately stopped what he was doing and stared at her, astonished. Although after that, he sank down on the couch and crossed his arms. "It's not that I hate _her_. It's more of like . . . she reminds me of someone I _do_ hate."

"Who does she remind you of?" Bonnie asked, her gossipy-side showing.

He looked away, almost staring into a distance. "My ex-girlfriend. Katherine Pierce. In fact," Damon had said, turning his fathomless eyes towards her, "Elena is the spitting image of her. I often wondered if they were related."

Feeling her arms tingle at the newfound information (and the jealousy that struck her), she bit her lip and brought her gaze down. Quietly, she asked, "Does it hurt . . . to be around her—Elena?"

"Sometimes," Damon answered, then he shifted his gaze on hers—a crooked smile on his face. "But it's more of a dull ache now."

"Really?" Bonnie asked, lifting her head up.

Damon leaned closer and pressed his lips on the corner of her mouth. "Really."

Now that I think about it, Bonnie thought as she continued to eat, he was looking at me weirdly yesterday. As if I did _something_. Did I do something to make him look at me that way?

The way he looked at her . . . it was intense, to put it simply. His eyes were _looking_ at her—watching her like she saved him from something. Perhaps it was the depression he felt when he was out of the relationship. A big part of Bonnie wanted to ask more questions yesterday, about the mysterious Katherine-girl, but got distracted by Damon's lips on hers . . .

Still, she wanted to know who she is and what happened to their relationship. Did Katherine die? Did she leave him? Did she cheat on him? So many questions muffled her other thoughts that Bonnie hardly heard the front door opening. It was only when the person entered the kitchen that she let out a surprised shriek.

"Bonnie! Bonnie, calm down! It's only me! Matt!"

The small female jumped off the stool and ran towards her friend. "Matt! I didn't know you were coming here! I mean, I knew you were but I didn't know you'll be here _today_!" she exclaimed, grinning.

Matt grinned back at his friend, noticing that she was wearing . . . a nightgown. A pretty one that complimented her appearance. "Well, I'm back! How'd you guys like the beach house so far?"

"Oh Elena and I _love_ it! But there was a bit of an . . . unexpected surprise," Bonnie said, almost hesitantly.

"Yeah?" Matt asked, raising his eyebrows. "What kind of 'unexpected surprise'?"

"Well . . ." Bonnie furrowed her eyebrows and began looking anywhere but him.

"Oh come on, Bon. It can't be _that_ bad if you and Elena are enjoying it here," he argued.

Bonnie blushed, because it wasn't bad _at all_. The first few days were bad, but they always were. The first few days in school were bad, the first few days in work were bad, heck, the first few days of . . . of everything were bad! The awkwardness and frustration eventually died down by the end of the first week.

She raised her brown eyes to meet his bright blue ones. She took a deep breath. "Well, your parents had already rented this beach house to these Italian brothers so when we got here we found the Italian brothers the next day—or, I mean, _they_ found us in here the next day. And then Damon—the older Salvatore—wanted us to leave the beach house immediately since they paid for it and he doesn't like sharing and all that but I somehow kinda persuaded him to let us stay here for free. But at first Elena didn't like it but I already suggested it so we were kinda stuck with it. The first few days with the Salvatore's were horrible but we all managed so here we are now," she summarized, taking another deep breath.

"So let me get this straight," Matt said slowly, his eyebrows furrowing. "My parents rented this place before summer and they didn't tell me?"

"I don't know! You tell me!" Bonnie exclaimed, a confused look on her face.

"How come you guys are still-"

"Who are you?" a familiar, deep voice asked from behind Matt. Quickly, the blonde boy turned around.

"Who are _you_?" Matt replied cautiously, looking at the dark-haired man in the kitchen. He pulled Bonnie behind him and Bonnie struggled to keep his hand off her wrists.

"That's Damon," she said after a moment, stepping beside Matt while he finally let go of her wrists. They both glanced at her, aware that she was only wearing her nightgown.

"Why don't you go change into something more modest?" Damon suggested, a hint of a smile gracing his lips. Bonnie blushed and murmured an agreement.

"Yeah, go on, Bon." Matt was trying his hardest not to scowl at the man before him. "Damon and I will just talk."

"There's nothing to talk about," Damon said. Bonnie rushed from the two males. "Arrangements had already been made," she heard Damon say. The redhead didn't pause to think whether or not the maid-agreements were part of those "arrangements."

Bonnie skipped up the steps, hurrying to her room so she could change before disputes could surface between Matt and Damon.

Oh this does _not_ look good at all.

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><p><strong>AN**: Thanks so much guys for the reviews! :D Expect a thank-you PM! I greatly appreciate everything guys! ^_^ School's almost over! Wooo!


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

><p><strong>Summer Love<strong>

**PART XI**

"Hey Matt!" Elena greeted cheerfully by the kitchen's entrance. When she came down to get some breakfast, she saw the older Salvatore and Matt sitting across from each other with a tense atmosphere. There were two mugs of coffee on the mahogany table. Damon and Matt evidently hadn't touched them after placing them on the table. The sun was hitting their face at an angle, highlighting some of their handsome features.

"Hey Elena!" Matt exclaimed, a grin instantly showing on his face when he turned his head to look at the other blonde.

"Where's Bonnie?" Elena asked. She didn't know whether or not to ignore Damon, so she directed the question to both of them.

"Upstairs in her room," Damon answered, his hand reaching for the cup. His cup felt cool.

"Oh. Does she know that you're here, Matt?" Elena asked, strolling over to her friend. Matt stood up and opened his arms. Elena smiled softly and loosely hugged him.

"Yeah, she knows," he answered. They pulled away after a moment.

Damon cleared his throat. And then Bonnie appeared at the entrance with Stefan following closely behind.

"Matt, this is Stefan. Stefan, that's Matt," Bonnie quickly introduced. She was nervous, Damon could tell; what with the rushed words and introductions she's doing. "Want some breakfast? Eggs? Bacon? Both? All?" she asked, walking towards the stove.

"It's a pleasure meeting you, Matt," Stefan said, smiling in an amiable manner. He was aware that this was the son of the Honeycutt's. Plus, Matt seemed like a nice guy.

"You too, Stefan." He returned Stefan's smile with one of his own.

Elena, however, kept her cool and remained to be herself. "So. Happy Fourth of July, guys!"

"Oh! I almost forgot about that!" Bonnie exclaimed, pouring some oil in the pan. She stood on her tip-toes and leaned over the sink beside the stove to reach for a spatula. "There's a parade by the beach. And I heard that the locals were going to set up a few stands there too."

"That sounds great," Matt said. "Are we going?"

"_We_ are," Damon said. Stefan gave his brother a look, clearly urging Damon to invite Matt along. His older brother never did.

"You wanna come along Matt?" Bonnie asked, whisking some eggs in the pan. She focused her eyes on her task. "I bet it'll be fun."

"Sure. When are we leaving to go to the beach?" he asked.

"We can leave after we're all finished getting ready," Elena suggested, lifting her eyebrows as she looked at Damon.

"Can you set the table for us, Elena?" Bonnie asked.

"Yep," Elena replied. She went over to the cabinet where the dining utensils are held and grabbed five of each. Plates, forks, knives, and glasses. She neatly put them on the table and slipped in a chair.

"Thanks Elena," Bonnie said, lifting the pan from the stove and carrying it over to the table. Using the spatula, Bonnie scooped out the eggs and placed an equal amount of portion on each plate.

"Looks yummy," Matt complimented, his eyes glancing up to meet Bonnie's. Bonnie simply smiled.

"Appears like we're going to have a good breakfast today," Damon commented with a smirk. The redhead glanced over her shoulder and smiled sarcastically.

* * *

><p>"So. Matt's here," Elena said softly, straightening her best friend's bed sheets.<p>

"I _know_," Bonnie mumbled. She ran a brush through her red curls, watching her reflection. Her brown eyes stared back at her, mirroring the confusion she felt inside. But, she thought, why am I _confused_? There's nothing going on with Matt and I . . . but Damon . . .

"-Damon's just probably jealous," Elena was saying. "I mean, he's more cynical than ever. Okay, maybe not _cynical_ but . . . more of, like, _rude_."

"Well, you _have_ mentioned that a few weeks ago- when you first met him . . ."

Elena paused, her mind racing back to their conversation so many days ago. "Yeah, I guess, but that's not even _this_ rude."

"I suppose," Bonnie murmured, turning around to look at her best friend. "And anyway, what's there to worry about?"

"Oh I don't know," Elena said slowly, shrugging, then she gave Bonnie a look, "Maybe his crush on you?"

"He doesn't like me in that way, and you know that very well!" Bonnie exclaimed. Elena gave her another look, one that orders her to keep her volume down, so the redhead placed her hands over mouth. "Just . . . dun wawa bow it."

"What?" Elena asked. "Don't mumble in your hand, jeez!"

"I said don't worry about it!" Bonnie whispered-yelled. "Nothing bad would come out of it. I know _you_ know that Matt doesn't like me in that way. Plus, now . . . he's like a brotherly figure . . . to me . . ."

"Uh huh," Elena said, obviously not being swayed by Bonnie's reasons. "Maybe I should just ask him if he-"

"_No_, no don't do that," Bonnie interjected quickly. "It would cause problems. Or something. I'm sure he sees me as a sister. I mean, the only person he's actually been romantically inclined to was you. You know that," Bonnie repeated.

Elena sighed and lied down on her best friend's bed, throwing her arms overhead. "Romance is so complicated."

"But the feeling of being adored is worth it," Bonnie mumbled, beaming a bit as she thought of her Italian admirer in the room across from hers.

"Totally," Elena agreed, a nearly tired tone in her voice.

* * *

><p>"And the ladies finally decide to appear," Matt stated, watching as his friends walked down the stairs. Stefan was easy to get along with- he realized that the minute he and Stefan began talking about sports. Damon, on the contrary, was a very hard cookie. He hardly talks, hardly even acknowledges his presence, and hardly smiles. Only when Bonnie appeared in sight did he smile crookedly.<p>

"Shall we walk around?" Elena asked, then she added, "It's only noon and the parade doesn't start until two."

"Yeah," Matt replied, shrugging his shoulders. "It's been a while since I've been here."

"When was the last time you've stayed here?" Stefan asked curiously. The girls were already walking out of the door, Damon following closely behind them, and Matt and Stefan leaving last.

"A few years back," Matt replied, trailing behind the trio- which included the girls and Damon. Matt was tempted to call him a girl in his head . . . "How do you like it here?"

Stefan's eyes glimpses at Elena, Matt noticed, and with a smile, Stefan said, "It's quite nice here."

"Does your brother like it here too?" Matt asked, his voice lowered.

Green eyes glanced at the back of Bonnie's head. "I suppose so," Stefan murmured. He didn't elaborate.

For one and a half hour, they strolled around the blocks, finally settling at the beach where the parade would pass. Stands were everywhere; lemonade stands, hotdog stands, snow cone stands, etc. It was amazing; Bonnie and Elena surely loved it.

"Here," Matt said, handing Bonnie a snow cone; Elena had already gotten herself one.

"Thanks," Bonnie said with a huge, childish grin. She accepted the snow cone and dug up some ice. The parade was going to start. The floats were lined up at the end of the street, where it would pass by the beach houses and roam around their neighborhood and other nearby places. The crowds were already walking towards the cement.

Damon, having watched the interaction between Matt and Bonnie, walked over to a cotton candy stand and bought the biggest, blue cotton candy he saw. It only costs a few bucks. Once he purchased the cotton candy, he broke into a light jog to catch up to the redhead with the snow cone.

"In case you get hungry," Damon muttered, handing her the big fluffy cotton candy.

"Oh, thank you Damon!" Bonnie squealed happily. She loves cotton candy! Who care if they're overly sweet and junk? They're _good_. With her left hand, she grabbed the stick, and with her right hand, she held her cold cup of snow cone. Matt sent Damon a knowing look.

One that accepts the challenge Damon had thrown at him.

Trumpets began playing and Bonnie jumped up and down, trying to see above people's heads—which was futile—and sometimes trying to peek through the people's body gaps. She couldn't see the parade! Damon and Matt stood beside her, towering over most of the people and easily watching the parade go by. She wondered if she should ask Damon to lift her up—even for just a second—but . . . maybe she should just ask Matt? Damon seems like he's in a bad mood . . .

But before Bonnie could decide, Damon had already grabbed her forearm and pulled him to her, her body temperature doubling its heat. It was _so_ hot today! She hated it; all sticky and sweaty . . . humid-

"Want me to lift you up?" Damon asked, his lips hovering over the shell of her ear, his warm breath drifting in her ear.

"If you don't mind," she mumbled shyly, a blush forming on her cheeks. Bonnie was completely unaware of Matt studying them. Damon, however, hid a smirk and was utterly conscious of his staring. Matt's lip twitched.

The game's on, Salvatore.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Sorry for the late update guys! I just finished writing the chapter today, but don't worry- I shall write up the rest of the story this week . . . and hopefully be finished with it. C: **Thank you guys so much for everything! **:) Sorry if this was short! I wanted it to be longer, but I'm so tired and I feel weak . . . i dunno.

_review?_


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

><p><strong>Summer Love<strong>

**PART XII**

"_This_ is what you do?" Matt asked, leaning on the doorway of the laundry room with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Yes," Bonnie answered, not a hint of annoyance in her voice as she closed the lid of the washing machine.

"And you like it?"

"I never said that," she remarked, pivoting on her heel and facing Matt with a slight smile. "Why, are you worried?"

"That you'll get STD, yes," Matt muttered.

Bonnie rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she walked past him. "Oh please," she huffed. Matt trailed behind her, dropping his arms to his side.

"You shouldn't let _him_ order you around," he said.

"I'm not," she replied, twisting to the left as she headed to the main hallway of the first floor. "Why don't you like Damon anyway?" Bonnie questioned curiously, if not a little bit defensive.

"Many reasons," he grumbled, his eyes narrowing marginally.

"Give me one good reason," Bonnie said, turning around to face him with her hands on her hips.

"He's making you do chores!" Matt exclaimed, nearly tempted to throw his hands in the air for more emphasis.

"I told you," the redhead started with a sigh, "that I'm fine with it. Maybe Elena's not, but _I_ am. I actually like doing his laundry for him." Because they all smell like him, Bonnie added inwardly. "I'm sure you and Elena would share a hearty time ranting to each other."

Sarcasm, Matt thought with raised eyebrows as he continued to follow Bonnie around the house. She used _sarcasm_. Bonnie never uses sarcasm—ever. Stupid Damon, Matt thought while biting the inside of his cheek. He ran a hand through his blonde locks, propping himself up on the kitchen counter as soon as they entered the kitchen.

"What do you want for lunch?" Bonnie asked, pulling out two iron pans from the cookware cabinet over at the top left side of the sink.

"Omelet," Matt automatically answered. An idea popped in his head as he watched Bonnie nod and pull out omelet ingredients. Damon's not in the kitchen anyway . . . "Why don't _you_," he paused and slipped off the counter, heading over to Bonnie, "just chill while I make our lunch?"

Bonnie giggled softly, glancing at him with her pretty eyes. "Yeah? You sure you can handle it, Mr. I've-got-this?"

He leaned close, blue eyes staring into brown ones, a smirk on his face as he tapped her forehead with his finger. "Of course, Ms. B. I've got this," he said. His breath was warm on her lips, but she didn't dare let it affect her. It wasn't like her heart raced with Matt around; her heart raced when _Damon_ was around.

Bonnie stuck her tongue out at him but, nonetheless, handed him the spatula. She stepped back. "Don't burn yourself."

"I won't," Matt said, chuckling and almost feeling giddy at the close proximity they had until Bonnie stepped away.

"Make sure to make enough for _all_ of us," Bonnie reminded him. And Matt knew he had to include Damon.

"Right," he said halfheartedly. "_All_ of us."

The onions, bell peppers, and tomatoes sizzled on the pan, as the egg—on the other pan—was being flipped over. "All for one, and one for all," he mumbled under his breath. Bonnie, who was sitting on a stool with a magazine in her hands, lifted her head from the September 2007 edition of Vogue and glanced at him.

"Did you say something?" she asked, turning a page in the publication.

"I was thinking of visiting some old friends here," Matt said, thinking on the top of his head. There's Alyson and Tyler . . . maybe Bonnie would get along with Alyson, but Matt will totally steer Bonnie away from Tyler. "Wanna come?"

"This afternoon?" Bonnie asked, rubbing the pad of her forefinger on the glossy page.

"Yup," he said.

"Can't," Bonnie stated, shaking her head. Matt decreased the fire on the burning egg before he spoke.

"Why?" It's probably because of Damon, Matt mused.

"Because I have to go grocery shopping with Damon," Bonnie said. He was right.

"_Have_ to?" Matt asked, glimpsing over his shoulder. His redheaded friend nodded.

"Have to."

"Maybe next time then," he suggested.

"Maybe," she said inattentively, her eyes scanning over the summer dresses of the page. Matt turned the fire down for the egg and scooped up the fried onions, bell peppers, and tomatoes with the spatula, placing it on the egg. He used the spatula to wrap the contents with the slightly burnt egg and also used it to put the food on the plate.

"Here you go, ma'am," Matt said to Bonnie, placing the plate with a steaming omelet in front of her.

His friend laughed and dropped the magazine down next to the plate. "Where are the other omelets?" she asked, lifting her eyebrows. The way her eyes lit up, and how her eyes has so much _depth_, could make Matt stare into her eyes forever. It was so . . . amazing, and so Bonnie, and—hell, his heart beat was speeding up.

"Matt?" Bonnie called softly, her eyebrows scrunching together worriedly. "You alright?"

"Hu—fine. I'm fine." Matt blinked and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about that—did I . . . did I ever tell you how striking your eyes are?" he asked slowly.

Blood crept up her pale cheeks, making her look so angelic, and Bonnie smiled shyly, her ears going pink and her neck warming up. "Thanks—but, uh, I think I should move Damon's laundry to the dryer—I should, yeah." Bonnie hastily stood up and brisk-walked out of the kitchen, her hands fisting the hem of her loose shirt.

What was that about?

* * *

><p>Matt finished the omelets in exactly twenty-seven minutes (not that he was counting) and placed them all on the dining table, where Bonnie's untouched omelet rested. Bonnie hadn't come out of the laundry room yet (or perhaps she didn't want to come in the kitchen), and Matt still felt dazed and astonished that he told Bonnie. He grabbed a napkin and used the ketchup bottle as a pen.<p>

_Meeting some friends  
>I'll eat w dem  
>Prepared ur lunch guys. Enjoy<br>-Matt_

He left through the backdoor, so no one saw him exit through the front door, where a pizza delivery guy was standing, preparing to knock.

"I got it!" Damon called to no one in particular as he raced down the stairs, without any shirt on.

"Pizza delivery for Mr. Salvatore," the teenager said, staring nervously at Damon. A lecher, the teenager thought when he saw Damon's lean and toned body.

"That would be me," he replied while pulling his wallet from his pocket. "How much?"

"Fifteen bucks, sir," the teenager answered quickly. He was sweating under the sun, but the chills running down his spine as he stared at the man in front of him was a contrast to the heat.

"Keep the change," Damon said, handing the kid a twenty-dollar bill. He winked at the kid with a charming smirk, taking the box in his hand. "Thanks." And then he closed the door.

The kid strolled back to the bicycle, wondering if he'd be as enticing as that 'Mr. Salvatore' customer he just had. Hopefully, the kid thought as he biked down the street.

Damon placed the box on the dining table, glancing at the omelet. Did Bonnie make this-?

"No," he said to himself, verbally answering his question. He took the napkin with the messy ketchup handwriting.

Matt made this. Well, if it was to impress Bonnie, it was _not_ working. And if it was working, Damon would make sure that it won't. He threw the napkin away. He was tempted to throw the omelets away, but he bought the ingredients himself (_Damn it, Mutt_) and he didn't want to waste them. Maybe next time, he'll make it even again.

Or make sure he's two steps ahead than Mutt.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: I'm so so so sorry for the late update! The next chapter hasn't been started yet, but I'll definitely try to make it up guys! So sorry! But thank you so much for the reviews! :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

><p><strong>Summer Love<strong>

**PART XIII**

Two blocks down the beach house, Matt swung the cheap bottle of beer to his lips, the dim sunlight passing through the dark-tinted windows of the closed bar. He was glad to be friends with the Hensen's daughter, Alyson. At least he could go drinking in the bar with her.

"It's too early for that," said Alyson while she brushed a short lock of light brown hair behind her ear. In a light green tank top and denim shorts, Alyson looked good with her tan skin and hazel eyes framed with her thick eyelashes. When they were teenagers, Matt remembered seeing Alyson under layers and layers of clothing during summer. It was because she was extremely prone to acne, and she had acne _everywhere_. Now, it's as if they never existed—well, maybe the small marks and scars on her back were evidence, but they're imperceptible. Especially the ones on her face.

She placed her chin on her palm, her elbow resting on the slick bar counter, and stared at her friend. "The first time we meet up after a couple of years, you want to go drinking. In _daylight_." She shook her head, her loose hair swaying at the movement. "You're impossible."

Matt grinned cheekily, wagging his eyebrows. "Like before, huh?"

Alyson rolled her eyes, sighing. "Tell me," she started seriously, "what's wrong?"

He dipped his blonde eyebrows forward, a hard look forming on his face, and Alyson couldn't help but raise her eyebrows. "Stuff."

"Right," replied Alyson sarcastically. "Like with the Elena-girl," she added. Matt ignored her and placed the bottle down on the counter, putting circular bottle marks randomly. He felt a soft hand over his own, and lifted his eyes to meet his friend's.

"Don't do that you moron," Alyson exclaimed, swatting his hand away. As if _that_ would stop Matt from marking the rest of the counter with circles from his bottle. She glared at him. "You _do_ know that I run this bar now, right?"

Matt sipped from the bottle, shaking his head. "Let's catch up. That's the-"

"Therefore," Alyson continued, jumping out of the bar stool to walk behind the counter. She bent down and immediately went back up with a wipe in one hand, and a Lysol sprayer in another, "I clean and manage this bar. So _please_, try not to mess things up before the sun sets."

Matt sighed, running his hand over his face. "How do you do these things? You're still in college and you're running a bar."

"Skills," she quipped happily, a contented smile on her face as she examined the shininess of her counter.

"No wonder why it smelled kind of feminine here," he grumbled good-naturedly. Alyson lightly hit him with the rag.

"My customers actually like the smell, for your information," she said before bending down to place the things back in their typical spots under the bar counter. Alyson strolled back around the bar, sliding back on the stool next to Matt's. "Now come on, I'm all ears. What happened that got you drinking here in my bar?"

Matt sighed, knowing that his friend wouldn't stop provoking the answers from him. He stared at her eyes, which were usually hidden behind her rectangular glasses—

"You're wearing contacts," he stated, astonishment breaking his not-so-foggy thoughts. Alyson resumed looking at him, a very light tint of pink growing over her tan cheeks.

"Stop changing the subject," she snapped. Alyson took a deep breath and cooled her features before going back to her previous position; elbow on the counter, chin on her palm. "I'm _trying_ to help you, and you keep on stalling."

"I don't need help," Matt grumbled, gulping down the rest of his bottle to avoid talking. He wished he had more bottles, more _alcohol_ in his system, to avoid talking about his problems. But there was only one empty bottle in his hand, and it wouldn't help him dodge the situation he's in.

Alyson sighed frustratingly. "Fine, whatever. Go sulk in your corner while I mop up the floor." She hopped off the stool, and Matt felt guilty. But he really didn't _need_ help. Although it would be nice to talk about what's bothering him, he _couldn't_. She might laugh at him, since he's worrying about trivial issues while _she_'s worrying about her future and financial issues. And he didn't want Alyson to laugh at him.

"Ali," groaned Matt, watching his friend walk out of a tiny closet at the other end of the bar.

"What, ready to talk now?" she asked, dumping the mop in the yellow bucket and drawing it out to place on the floor. Alyson started mopping.

Matt watched her for a moment, and then contemplated for about five seconds. "If you promise not to laugh," he finally said.

At this, Alyson laughed—straightening her posture and dumping the mop back in the yellow bucket to wipe away the dry laughing tears from her eyes. "Matt," she said amusedly, "it must be really _serious_ if you're here at lunch time, drinking. So why would I have a reason to laugh?"

"I may be overreacting," he said slowly. What if he _was_ overreacting? What if Alyson helps him make sense out of all this? Then revealing his secrets (were they even secrets to start with?) to Alyson wouldn't be worth it . . .

She shrugged, as if it was no big deal. "Girls mature faster than guys," Alyson stated. "So, you want to talk about it?"

"I'll help you mop the bar." But Matt was nodding.

* * *

><p>"Where's Matt?" Bonnie asked while sitting herself on a dining chair.<p>

"Out," answered Damon, opening the box of hot pizza.

Stefan and Elena stumbled in the kitchen afterwards, hands intertwined. They sat next to one another, Elena sitting next to Bonnie, and Bonnie sitting next to Damon. No awkward five-wheeler, Damon thought—clearly entertained. Bonnie sent him a wary look.

"Matt made some omelets," she pointed out, watching Damon take a slice of pizza out of the box.

"I know," he said, glimpsing at her. "Why, do you want it?"

"Where are they?" Bonnie asked, looking around until she spotted them on the kitchen counter. She pushed herself from the table and headed over to the counter, grabbing her plate and heating it up in the microwave for thirty seconds. It was still quite warm.

"You don't want pizza?" Damon asked mildly.

Bonnie lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "I'll eat them both," she said. She glimpsed over her shoulder, towards Elena and Stefan. "You guys want some omelet?"

"Sure," replied Elena, a bouncy lilt in her voice. "I've never tasted Matt's cooking."

Stefan chuckled, nodding his head in response to Bonnie's question. She pulled the two other plates and placed them in the microwave, taking her plate out. She set her plate down beside Damon's elbow and waited for the microwave to beep.

"You want yours heated up, Damon?" Bonnie asked, rocking back and forth on her heels.

"No," Damon answered around a mouth full of pizza. He swallowed it down, licking his lips and raised his eyebrows suggestively. "But you can heat up something _else_ for me," he said.

Stefan, used to his brother's bawdy sense of humor, opened his mouth to say something, but Elena was giggling to herself and didn't want to end the fun _yet_. So she tightened her fingers around his to stop him from interfering.

"What do you want me to heat up?" Bonnie asked curiously, eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

"My d—"

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_ The microwave dinged thrice, cutting off whatever Damon was going to say. And Stefan was relieved that he didn't have to interrupt his brother; Damon would simply chuck something at him. Probably food.

"What were you going to say?" she asked, placing the plates of omelets before Stefan and Elena. She grabbed forks from the cabinet and headed back to the table, where she found Elena giggling with a blush on her cheeks, and Damon smirking mischievously while Stefan pretended he didn't hear anything.

"Nothing, _cara_," he said once she slipped back in the chair beside him. Bonnie brushed it off, although her tummy flipped over when he called her _cara_, and dug in the omelet, also taking a huge slice of pizza from the box.

"Yum," Bonnie sighed, chewing the mozzarella cheese.

They ate in silence, their thoughts kept to themselves until Elena spoke up. She wiped a napkin over her lips first, before she asked the dreaded question she and Bonnie wanted to shun. "When are you guys going back to Italy?" Elena asked.

Bonnie resumed eating her slice of pizza, however, she was watching Damon out of the corners of her eyes. He just sat there, drinking his cold soda, with his impassive eyes observing something distant through the windows.

"The first Friday of August," Stefan replied. Damon didn't say anything.

Elena dropped her jaw, twisting in her seat to face Stefan. "Stefan!" she gasped, her heart beating fast underneath her ribcage. "Stefan, that's like . . . _three_ weeks from now!"

"Four actually," Stefan joked meekly, swallowing the rest of his pizza.

Bonnie turned to Damon, her hand sliding down his arm until it reached his bigger hand. She laced her fingers with his. "That's not a lot of time," she mumbled sadly.

"It's plenty of time," Stefan stated with a tiny sigh. He glanced at his brother. "Just not enough for us."

"And for _us_," Elena emphasized, locking her gaze with Stefan. Bonnie tried to ease the tightness of her throat. She knew they were going back to Italy, knew that she might never see Damon again—but she wanted, God she really _wanted_, to have a steady relationship with Damon. Maybe even . . . in the future . . . Bonnie didn't know what it was that attracted her to Damon; his quiet thoughtfulness, his great personality under the snarky attitude, she didn't know. Bonnie gripped his hand tighter.

"Are you guys going to visit again?" Bonnie asked, her voice sounded thick even to her ears.

Damon turned his head to look at her, a wry smirk on his lips. "We'll see."

Bonnie had to refrain herself from tearing up and merely drank from her cup of soda. The bubbles burned her tongue, but Bonnie liked the burn. It encouraged her to drink more. She forced a tiny grin on her face, determined to spend the rest of their time together happily. "Let's make it the best three weeks, okay?"

* * *

><p>"Duh," Alyson drawled, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. "You make her jealous."<p>

"Jealous?" Matt pushed the bucket back in the janitor's closet—the tiny room Alyson emerged from an hour ago. "How can I make her jealous if she doesn't even _feel_ anything for me?"

"You sure about that?" Alyson asked, loosely wrapping her arms around her stomach. She shook her shoulder-length hair out of her face.

Matt paused to think. He was _somewhat_ sure, since she didn't blush around his presence anymore like before and because her eyes always had that dreamy look when they mention _Damon_. "At some extent," he replied.

"Well, buddy," Alyson said, her voice going down a few octaves lower until it sounded like a guttural voice of a man. It sounded horrible, yet very hilarious. She once told him that she used this voice whenever there were suspicious-looking strangers on her steps and she didn't want to open the door. "We're going to play a game called _Chance_."

Matt laughed, shaking his head. "You're crazy! And that is accommodated by that voice too."

Alyson cleared her throat, grinning at her friend. "Come on, it'll be fun. And who knows, maybe you'll get Bonnie!" Her voice was thankfully back to normal.

He frowned. Alyson rolled her eyes. "I won't," Matt said. "Because she already gave her heart to Damon."

"Oooh," Alyson giggled, locking the door with the key from her pocket. "Very poetic, I might say. And he sounds hot. Just by his name."

Matt sighed, and his friend nudged him with her elbow. "Put that frown upside down, and invite your beloved and Damon to my bar tonight! We could start Phase One here."

"Phase One?" Matt repeated, halting in his steps while Alyson nonchalantly walked ahead of him. "I never agreed to anything."

"That's right, but no one said we needed an agreement," Alyson remarked merrily, making her way behind the bar. "I'll pretend to be your long lost girlfriend!"

Matt rolled his blue eyes, expecting as much from his friend. Okay, maybe not _this_ much since he was used to Alyson just being _there_ to listen to his problems—not meddle with them. He slid back onto his stool and placed his elbows on the counter. "I'm not doing it."

Alyson sighed dramatically, although there was a flash in her eyes, something Matt didn't catch. "Oh fine." She took a different cloth, a cleaner one, and wiped the glasses behind her.

But Matt wanted to see if he had any kind of chance with Bonnie . . . and Alyson's idea, though reasonably cliché, was tempting. Fairly tempting. Would he get any reactions from Bonnie? He'd never find out if he didn't go on with Alyson's scheme . . .

"Not tonight, anyway," Matt added after watching Alyson absently. Alyson arched her eyebrows, pivoting on her heel. She was grinning triumphantly though.

"Why not tonight?" Alyson asked.

"_Duh_," Matt drawled, copying Alyson's tone. He gave her a genial smile. "I'm taking my 'long lost girlfriend' to the diner next door while we catch up." Alyson nearly dropped the wineglass she was wiping.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Happy Friday guys! Story's almost to an end, I shall say. But thank you so much for the reviews and support! I made a mistake about the Meredith part. She was supposed to be Matt's friend who didn't know Bonnie and Elena, but then I remembered that Bonnie and Elena are already friends with her, so I made Alyson Hensen. Sorry for the confusion! I confuse myself on a daily basis!


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

><p><strong>Summer Love<strong>

**PART XIV**

"Your dad's in the hospital?" Matt asked, stunned.

"Stroke," replied Alyson quietly. She sipped from her can of soda, her hazel eyes downcast.

He swallowed, somewhat guiltily. How can Alyson handle all this? He, on the hand, was concerned over the simplest things. "I—"

"Don't say you're sorry," Alyson quickly stated, shaking her head vigorously. "Please don't. It's not your fault."

Matt bit the inside of his cheek. "Okay—I hope he recovers quickly."

Alyson gave him a tiny grateful smile behind her burger. "Thanks. But yeah, that's why I'm managing the bar."

"That's why you act as if you own it." He was trying to steer their conversation to the easiness from earlier. Luckily, his statement worked as a leeway.

"It's because I _do_ own it," Alyson rolled her eyes, chewing on her burger. "Haven't you been listening to anything I've said?"

The vent above them made some noise, and they both looked up, just as the chilly air blew through it. Alyson visibly shuddered whereas Matt repressed his shivers. She took a napkin and wiped her lips. "So, Honeycutt, what else do you want to catch up with?"

"Well . . . I just came from some football camp," he said slowly. "If that helps contribute to this discussion."

"Big words, Matt. I never thought I'd see the day," joked Alyson. "How was football camp?"

"Very manly," he answered. "The coach was awesome, and so were all the players—"

"But there were no girls huh?" Alyson teased. "No wonder why you're all—" She stopped, blushed, and chugged down half of her soda.

"What?" he persisted, raising his eyebrow.

"Nothing," Alyson squeaked, hiding her mouth behind her burger. She opted for a change of subject. "So, about tomorrow night . . . I'd say you guys swing by around eight o'clock in the evening. Phase One of Wooing Bonnie will begin once we get together." Alyson noticed her choice of words at the end, but hoped that he wouldn't notice. And he didn't.

Matt drank from his soda. "Alright. And then what?"

"We pretend to be together." He could hear the silent _duh_ at the end of her sentence.

"How?"

"Are you seriously asking me that?" questioned Alyson, amused disbelief mixing with her words. A waitress passed by, glanced at them inquiringly, and continued on with her work. "We pretend as if we really _are_ together. You know, with the hugs and kisses. Except," she paused and stared at him evenly, "we don't _have_ to do the kisses unless you want to."

"And pet names?"

"You want one?" It never struck Alyson that Matt was the type to have pet names for his girlfriends . . .

"Not really, but Damon has pet names for Bonnie. So I figured . . ."

"Fighting fire with fire," Alyson observed. When Matt stared at her weirdly, she shrugged bashfully. "Sorry, I've always wanted to say that. But there wasn't any right time or event to say it, until now—oh, right. Pet names."

"Alligator?" he suggested. Alyson glared at him.

"It's as if I'm a horrendous monster."

"Ali-Ali?"

"Don't even . . ." She finished her burger moments after him, and drank some more of her soda.

"Son?"

"No."

Matt brushed his hair out of his blue eyes, thinking. _What_ could he call her? He made a face. "It's not that important; we'll think of something later. Now what else do we do? What if she asks how I met you or how long we've been dating?"

"Tell her how we really met! When you and Tyler hit me with that damned football after I just got my ice cream," she said.

"And about how long we've been dating?"

"Then tell her it's none of her business," Alyson replied, noting the way he cringed. She raised an eyebrow. "Hey, I can't think of any lie at the moment. And if you don't want to say that, _I _can."

"We're just doing this once right?"

"To see if she has feelings for you, yeah," Alyson nodded. She really tried to keep the hollowness out of her voice.

"Sounds good," Matt said. Then he placed his elbows on the table, leaning forward all of a sudden. Alyson lifted her eyebrows. "What if she asks me what's going on between us? When you're not around?"

"Is she really that curious? Because if she is, then she's totally into you."

"Then she probably won't," Matt mused aloud.

"Idiot, have a little faith!" exclaimed Alyson. She sank down in her chair. "If you don't, then nothing would happen."

"Ali, I've had faith when I got here a few days ago, but then _Damon_ appeared out of nowhere," Matt paused, "And my faith went out the window."

"Well, if you _really_ like her—you know what, whatever. Let's just see how it goes tomorrow night."

* * *

><p>"So where were you today, huh Matt?" Elena asked, poking her friend.<p>

Matt placed his feet over the coffee table and leaned heavily on the cushions. Should he start the Phase One of Wooing Bonnie now? Alyson would be proud, wouldn't she? Although . . . Bonnie's not even in the room. "With Alyson."

"_Oooh_," Elena giggled, nudging Matt with her elbow. "She's not exactly a place but . . . who's she? Your girlfriend?"

"Exactly," Matt remarked, nodding his head. "My long lost girlfriend."

"Wait—did you just say '_my long lost girlfriend_'?" Elena asked, raising her eyebrows.

"It's an inside joke," Matt hastily said, smiling.

"Oooh," Elena squealed. "Are we ever going to meet her? How come you didn't bring her here? _Bonnie_!" the blonde girl called, cupping her hands around her mouth. "Get your cute little butt in here! Matt has a girlfriend!"

Almost right away, they heard the water from the faucet stop and the running footsteps of Bonnie McCullough. Her hair was tied up in a teeny ponytail to the side, and her eyes were wide with excitement. "Did you say just say that—"

"Matt has a girlfriend," Elena squealed, nodding her head and pinching Matt's cheeks as if he was her sibling.

"Oh my gosh," Bonnie jumped up and down on the balls of her feet and tackled the empty on the couch beside them. "Details Matt. We need details."

Does that mean she's interested? Matt wondered in his head, and thought that maybe she _is_ interested in him. A part of him was saying that she's only interested in the _relationship_ he's in, but the stubborn part in his head was telling him that she _is_ interested. "Well, she's been my friend ever since we had a beach house here."

"And?" prodded Bonnie, wagging her eyebrows.

"And—where are the Italian bros; Mario and Luigi?" Matt asked, raising his head from the cushions to look around the living room. Both girls hit him on the arm simultaneously. He made a face. "What?"

"Don't call them that. We both know that you and Damon aren't on good terms, but don't drag _Stefan_ into it," Elena scolded, but snuggled back into the cushions.

Bonnie pinched Matt's arm. "For your information, Damon and Stefan are out getting some food for us."

"That reminds me," he started, looking at his friends, "did you girls enjoy my omelets?"

"They were alright," Elena said, laughing as Matt sighed dramatically.

"Oil-tastic," Bonnie added with a giggle. She sent Matt a sly look. "You're totally avoiding the question. What else did you do with your girlfriend today?"

"We just caught up, and stuff," Matt said, waving his hand dismissively. He glanced at Elena and Bonnie, his eyes lingering on the redhead. "Do you guys want to meet her?"

"Sure!" Bonnie exclaimed. The girls, Matt thought amusedly, are more excited of the idea of me having a girlfriend than myself . . .

"Well, she runs the bar two blocks down."

"Hensen's?" asked Elena.

"What have _you_ been doing?" Bonnie teased her best friend, and Elena blushed, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah that. I've told her about you guys and she wanted to meet you two," Matt said. "So how about tomorrow night?"

"We don't really—"

Elena cut off Bonnie and winked at her. "Sure. The beach is right behind it, isn't it? We could all just take a long, _romantic_ walk with our lovers."

Bonnie flushed, the preoccupied look entering her facial expression. She's thinking about Damon again, Matt thought with a downhearted sigh. And the little faith that Alyson drilled into him leaped out of the window once again.

"Exactly," Matt repeated, yet he didn't know why his heart fluttered at the idea.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Fridays, Fridays! :) I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I'm sorry if it's fast-paced, I'm kind of rushing right now. But thank you so much for the reviews! :D I really appreciate them! :D


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

><p><strong>Summer Love<strong>

**PART XV**

"Alright," said Elena, pushing a blonde lock behind her ear. Ever since Matt got here, Elena had moved to Bonnie's room since there were only four bedrooms in the beach house. Although she would _love_ to stay in Stefan's room, she and Stefan agreed to keep their relationship out of the bedroom because God knows what they would do in a bedroom. "Finished," Elena sang, gesturing for Bonnie to turn around and examine her reflection in the mirror.

"Elena—" Bonnie stopped short, narrowing her eyes at the mirror. She placed her hands on the dresser to lean closer, brown eyes being accented by the dark liquid eyeliner coating the top and bottom of her eyes and the dark mascara coloring her eyelashes. Her lips were glossed lightly, making it shiny, and her cheeks were imperceptibly brushed with pale pink powder. It made her skin look rosy.

"So what do you think, Bon?" Elena asked, proud of her work even without her best friend's input.

"It's—why did you want to put some makeup on my face anyway?" Bonnie responded, fixing her white dress; it was really a summer dress with spaghetti straps, but it she deemed it "appropriate" for a bar.

"_Because_," Elena replied, rolling her blue eyes and fixing her indigo tube dress. "It's for Damon."

"He doesn't care," remarked Bonnie in high-pitched voice, recalling all those times Damon called her beautiful. But then she shrugged, heart pulsing in a daze. "But he won't mind this either."

"I'm glad we're on the same page here," Elena said. She headed for the door, grabbing her tiny shoulder purse, and exiting the room. "Come on Bonnie!" Elena called from the stairs.

"I'm coming," Bonnie called back, taking her tiny purse in her hands and running out of her room to catch up with the others.

* * *

><p>"Ali," Matt shouted over the music, instantly spotting his "girlfriend" in the crowded bar. He beckoned the others to follow him, checking his watch to see if he was prompt. His heart pounded with the beat of the music, and so he blamed the music when his pulse raced seeing Alyson.<p>

"_Matty_," Alyson squealed, acting out her role perfectly. She gave him a hug, Matt's arms instantly going around her waist, and Alyson pulled away, a smile on her face. She was in a lime green dress, solid in color, yet the style of the dress very rakish. Rakish and simple.

"Aw," Elena giggled, elbowing Stefan in the ribs. Her face was turned to him, a sly look on her expression. "They have nicknames Stefan. Even Bon and Damon have some. How come _we_ don't have some?"

"We're a unique one, Elena," Stefan joked, and Elena giggled again.

"Guys, this is Alyson. My girlfriend." To act more believable, Matt allowed his gaze to linger on Alyson, noticing how her cheeks flushed faintly and how he saw her throat move.

"Hi," she greeted, nervously stepping closer to Matt. Damn it, she thought. Her urge to hide behind Matt was unexpectedly growing, especially now that their eyes were on her. Luckily, Matt slipped an arm around her waist to keep her by his side. _Right_, Alyson thought, we have a plan to do. And it's just for one night. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you," Alyson added more confidently.

"Alyson, this is Bonnie," Matt said, casually exchanging a look with Alyson while he tipped his head towards Bonnie. "That's Elena, Stefan, and Damon."

The group chorused a "Hey." Damon watched the newcomer—or were _they_ the newcomers?—smile and lead them to a bar. Did Mutt finally find a girl? Damon couldn't ignore the straying eyes he often gave Bonnie in the beach house, but he all he could do—that was very civil, in his opinion—was to take Bonnie as far from Mutt as possible. It was, in truth, absolutely rewarding.

"You run the bar?" Bonnie asked curiously, hopping onto a stool beside Damon. Matt sat on her opposite side while Elena and Stefan sat on Damon's side.

"That's right," Alyson said merrily. She sat on the stool next to Matt's and waved at her employee. "What do you guys want to drink? It's all on me."

"Nothing too strong," Damon replied. Alyson sent him a half-smile, and Matt couldn't understand why he felt irritated.

"Then I've got just what you need," she responded. "What about you guys?"

Bonnie bit her lower lip anxiously. She didn't drink . . . never had, and probably never will . . . but Damon didn't know that . . . "Erm, just a bottle of beer is fine."

Surprised, Elena glanced at Bonnie, eyebrows lifted, and turned to Alyson. "Beer, please."

Stefan shrugged. "Anything would be fine."

"Gotcha," Alyson nodded her head and faced her "boyfriend." "And what about you, Matty?"

"Same old, same old," he said, a smile lighting up his features at the pet name.

Alyson smiled back and turned towards the counter. "Hey Bert!" she called.

* * *

><p>The beer tasted <em>horrible<em> in her mouth. It also gave her a tolerable headache once she finished the bottle.

"You okay?" Matt's girlfriend asked her, eyebrows scrunched in concern. Bonnie shook her head yes, and regretted the response right away. It merely worsened her headache.

"The music's too loud," Bonnie managed to say over the music, watching an apologetic expression cross Alyson's face.

"I'll take her outside," was what Damon said before whisking her out of the bar, and into the warm night. Damon had his arm around her waist, guiding her through the tiny space between the bar and the diner beside it, and they emerged to the sight of the beach. The salty air blew against them, making Bonnie hiccup and gag, Damon half-carrying Bonnie across the sand to sit by the waves.

"Do you feel better?" asked Damon, keeping his hold around her waist while Bonnie's mind spun.

"Better than before," Bonnie mumbled, closing her eyes tiredly and leaning on Damon's chest. She could feel the tip of his chin rest on the top of her head. "You know, I don't drink."

"I know."

Gasping in astonishment, Bonnie abruptly pulled away and snapped her dizzying gaze open. "You _do_?"

"Yes. The moment you took a sip from that beer bottle," he said amusedly. "But I didn't stop you since you were determined to drink it."

"Oh you suck," Bonnie remarked, snuggling back into his chest. Damon bit his tongue to stop a lewd statement from escaping and simply kissed her head.

"You're not up for the walk, are you?"

"I was never up for it," she admitted. "Only Elena. Plus," Bonnie tilted her chin up to softly kiss his jaw. "Being with you here, alone, is already romantic enough."

"You don't know how tempting you made that sound," Damon muttered, his fingers bunching up the dress on her hip. The hem of the dress brushed high against her thigh and Bonnie glimpsed down, seeing his fingers reveal more and more of her thighs and she lightly jabbed him in the chest.

"Whatever, Damon." But the smile on her face didn't leave. His fingers stroked her thigh leisurely, and something in the pit of her stomach sparked with warmth, although all Bonnie could do was sigh in delight as his fingers brushed higher and slipped under her dress to brush against the side of her stomach.

"Your skin is soft," he murmured, lips just hovering above the shell of her hear.

"Mhm," hummed Bonnie absently, hands splaying across his chest and onto his back as she pulled herself onto his lap. Damon grunted.

"Bonnie—"

He was effectively cut off by the pressure of her velvet lips on his. She tasted like chocolate and beer, and Damon gave in to the temptation.

* * *

><p>Alyson sipped from her glass and watched Elena and Stefan murmur to one another. She wondered if she'd ever do that with someone, preferably her friend sitting next to her. But it was quite a dream. Unbeknownst to her, she sighed.<p>

"Bored?" Matt asked. He all but lost his spark when Bonnie and Damon left almost fifteen minutes ago.

"Are you?" she replied, raising her eyes to meet his.

He lifted his shoulders in a shrug, just as Elena and Stefan told them that they'll take a walk. They watched them go in silence.

"So, what do you think?"

"Hmm?" Alyson swirled her drink absently. The music was blaring from the speakers, the crowd chattering, and her mind was full.

"You think she likes me?"

_No_, her thoughts said. But Alyson wouldn't say that. Is it bad to feed him lies just so she can spend more time with him as his "girlfriend"? She swallowed the lump in her throat, not realizing that Matt was already looking at her with his blue eyes. "Probably; I don't know."

"Too busy ogling at Damon?" His tone was bitter, and he _knew_ he shouldn't have accused her of that, but he was feeling rather pissed for having a lousy outcome. And for this peculiar sensation . . .

Alyson blinked. Could it be that he was _jealous_? But then again, he had already admitted to her that he _was_ jealous of Damon for stealing Bonnie. . . Alyson gulped down her drink to delay responding. Although she answered nonetheless. "Yep," she replied. "Want another beer?"

"You're lying," he said all of a sudden. "About the Bonnie-part. You know whether she likes me or not." Matt leaned close to her, faces inches away from hers. The green in her hazel eyes appeared vibrant. "You know, don't you?"

With a warm face and a hot set of ears, Alyson pressed her lips together and nodded. He really likes her, she thought with a downhearted twitch in her chest. "No, she doesn't like you."

"I knew it." Surprisingly, he didn't feel _much_ of the expected resentment and disappointment. In fact, he only felt empty. Not _fully_ empty, but still.

"Matt—"

"Just so you know," Matt cut in, not looking at her as he waved for the bartender named Bert. "I'm drinking with you tonight. They _do_ expect me to spend the night with my girlfriend."

* * *

><p>Stefan and Elena used the same way that Damon and Bonnie used. Therefore, they saw Damon and Bonnie passionately tangled by the shore. Stefan had hastily turned away and pulled Elena over to the opposite direction.<p>

"_Woooo! YOU GO BONNIE!_" hollered Elena, giggling and laughing as the two jerked apart; Bonnie blushing from head to foot, and Damon scowling at the interruption. His dress shirt was halfway unbuttoned, and Bonnie's dress was already above her hips. Elena was glad that she butted in before things went too far. The blonde sent them a smirk.

"Shut up!" they heard Bonnie faintly yell. The waves were splashing in frenzied manner that it nearly drowned out her exclamation.

And so, the two walked in silence, hand in hand, along the wet sand. The sea air ruffled the blonde tresses of Elena's hair, and she tightened her grip around Stefan's.

"On Sunday . . . Damon and I are taking you guys to the local carnival . . ." Stefan started shyly. "We found out about them while we were buying some food a few days back."

"That sounds fun!" Elena said, jumping on the balls of her feet. She leaned towards Stefan and he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her forehead. "We should invite Alyson and Matt," she added.

"We should," said Stefan, thinking of how it would be a wonderful day for all of them.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Friday~ School's about to start! -_-* Summer went by past, eh? Anyway, happy Friday! The story's almost to an end, as I mentioned before, so yeah. I'm just tying up loose ends now to lead to the conclusion! And of course the epilogue and the extra…so yeah. THANK YOU SO MUCH GUYS! :D


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

><p><strong>Summer Love<strong>

**PART XVI**

"Spent the night at Alyson's huh?" teased Elena, grinning at Matt, who was rubbing his face tiredly. They were in Matt's room (Elena actually barged into his room and was now standing by the foot of his bed with her arms crossed), and it was only, what, 9:30AM?

"Yes," he replied, yawning into his hand. If that was what they had to do in order to continue their girlfriend-boyfriend façade, then so be it. Although in truth, Matt didn't mind spending the night with his friend—it was relaxing and fun. And they didn't need to pretend around each other either. "Why did you wake me up at this ungodly hour?" groaned Matt, pulling the covers over his head. Almost instantly, he felt warm and hot, so he kicked the covers in annoyance.

"Stop being melodramatic," chastised Elena while drawing the tangled blankets from around his ankles. And _she's_ telling me to stop being melodramatic, thought Matt. Matt nearly jerked up when Elena patted his knee, sitting on the edge of his bed. "We're going to a carnival tomorrow," she told him. "You and Alyson should come."

This clearly meant that he didn't have another choice _but_ to come. Matt sighed to himself and attempted to blink the sleep away from his eyes. "I'll see if she's free."

"I'm _sure_ she is," stated Elena, jumping up from his bed. "Tell me once you know you're going, okay?" She didn't even wait for his reply and simply strolled out of his room. Matt considered going back to sleep, but got his phone and texted Alyson.

_U up for the carnival tomorrow, gf?_

He only had to wait for two minutes to receive her response.

_Are u kidding me?_

Matt smiled to himself. Ah, the skeptical Alyson. _Come on, plz? Elena invited u&me._

_Lemme see, more of our plan? Thought u wanted to abandon it! :P_

_Yeah, well. :PP _Matt exhaled loudly, forcing himself to sit up. He should lock the door, or maybe not leave any spare keys outside.

_Fine. :P Sunday it is._

_Thank u! :D_

_Whatever. U owe me._ _-.-*_

_U know u love me anyway_, was what Matt sent. She didn't reply. But at least she agreed to go with them on Sunday.

* * *

><p>"She said she was coming here?" asked Bonnie on Sunday, keeping her fingers locked with Damon's. She was sitting on the porch beside Damon, who was pressing kisses on the side of her neck. Matt didn't want to look.<p>

"Yup."

"How come you didn't get her?" Elena asked, hooking her arm through Stefan's.

"She didn't want me to come and get her," replied Matt, rubbing his stomach. It was Sunday, and he was nervous. He didn't know why, but he was. And he was hungry too.

"I think it's quite obvious as to who wears the pants in their relationship," commented Damon, smirking at Matt—who decided to ignore him and bite his tongue for good measure.

"_Damon_," warned Bonnie. While he truly looked bashful under her scolding gaze, Matt couldn't help but still feel annoyed. Alyson did _not_ wear the pants in their relationship. She really didn't. It was more of a 50/50—

He's taking this pretend-relationship a bit too seriously, and Matt knew it. He pushed his hands in his pockets and began rocking back and forth on his heels, willing for Alyson to get here faster so he wouldn't have to be alone. He should've headed straight home instead of going to this perfectly-coupled beach house.

It was a good five minute wait before Alyson showed up and hugged Matt. They all exchanged their greetings and headed, by foot of course, to the carnival at the end of the third block. By the time they got there, everyone was thirsty and sweaty, although none of them minded it. They were having a decent time with their partners, and as well as each other.

"Drinks and snacks first?" Elena asked. She was, incidentally, the unspoken yet official host of the day.

"Sure," exclaimed both Bonnie and Alyson. They glanced at each other and shared a smile; Bonnie, however, was oblivious to the sadness tingeing her smile. Damon, on the contrary, wasn't so unaware and therefore, decided to have a talk with Matt. Later.

The crowd was huge; humid air bouncing around the place, but there was also the fun and the passing flirtatious atmosphere. There was a mini ferris wheel (that looked adorable—in the girls' opinions) in the middle of the carnival, and tons of stands. Game stands, hotdog stands, cotton candy stands . . . They ended up occupying one wooden bench; that could, unfortunately, only hold three people.

"You guys are such _gentle_men," gushed Alyson. Elena and Bonnie both giggled in agreement. The guys were indeed gentlemen because they paid for their food, and gave the bench space to their girlfriends.

"You're so cool," Bonnie told Alyson, grinning. Alyson smiled genuinely, a hint of a blush on her cheeks.

"I can't believe Matt hadn't introduced you to us before," Elena stated, biting subtly from her corndog.

"Yeah, well." Alyson didn't elaborate; she just lifted her shoulders in a shrug. The girls didn't seem to be bothered by her lack of response and simply started talking to their boyfriends. She wished that what she had with Matt was real, but that was far from reality—she accepted it long ago.

"I'm just going to use those stinky portable potty things," said Matt, reaching down to squeeze her hand. Alyson felt a smile on her face. Even though their situation was untrue, this moment, right now, felt _real_.

"I'm coming," stated Damon, bending down to kiss Bonnie's forehead. Feeling left-out, Stefan chose to come along as well.

"I wonder what's up with them," Elena mused aloud once the boys were gone from their sight.

"Maybe they're planning something for us," Bonnie said, smiling slyly at the girls. Alyson and Elena laughed; Alyson placing a hand over her mouth to hide her grin, and Elena laughing out loud.

"I hope," murmured Alyson, tucking a stray lock behind her ear.

* * *

><p>"I know what you're doing."<p>

Matt nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Damon behind him. He just got out of the Porta-Potties, and was immediately confronted by Damon. Whatever Damon wanted to confront him with.

"Right," replied Matt, glancing over his shoulder to Damon. Damon clasped a hand on his shoulder and turned him around.

"You and Alyson might as well drop the act," Damon stated, just a tiny bit of irritation palpable in his amused expression. "If you don't . . . well, I could always tell Bonnie."

"How do you even know what's happening?" Matt snapped, glaring at Damon. The older Salvatore half-smiled at him, all knowing as usual.

"I've got my ways."

Stefan was nowhere to be seen; he was still probably in a Porta-Potty since he had to wait in line. Damon raised an eyebrow, challenging Matt. "Well?"

"You're going to leave her anyway," Matt said instead—which earned him a scowl.

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are. You're going back to Italy."

"But that doesn't mean that I'm leaving her," Damon remarked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"And that doesn't mean that you're staying with her either."

"There's much more to a relationship than just staying together, stupid." People were starting to stare as they passed the two, and soon, Stefan was making his way towards them, careful to avoid the looks of the other bystanders around his two companions.

"What's up?" asked Stefan as soon as he reached them. He could see the tensed shoulders of Matt, the firm line of his brother's lips. There was definitely something _up_.

"Nothing," the blonde lied.

"Problems," his older brother replied at the same time Matt did

Damon and Matt glared at each other. "Consider it, Mu—_Matt_."

"Consider nothing," he snorted, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I know what _you_'re doing."

"And what's that?" Damon asked, ignoring the people, and his brother included, and focused on Matt. He often wondered what Bonnie saw in him that was crush-material and friend-material, because honestly? Damon couldn't see it.

"You're going to forget about her once you leave this country."

Damon rolled his dark eyes, brushing past Matt. "No I _won't_. Now, did you know that your girlfriend really likes you? Almost to the point of love?" he asked him, glancing at his brother with a Damon-like grin.

"Well yeah, she's my girlfriend so—"

"No, I mean _really_ likes you," Damon cut in, lifting his eyebrows meaningfully, trying to get Matt to understand what he meant. And that he should just enjoy his "girlfriend" rather than pining over Bonnie—who, Damon would made sure, won't look at him in a "more-than-a-friend" way.

What he really meant must've dawned on Matt because he flushed and averted his eyes. "Well. Yeah," he said uncertainly.

"I'm lost," declared Stefan, the typical brooding expression on his face.

"It's no big deal, little brother," Damon murmured, visibly entertained. They were near the girls now, just a couple of feet. "Bonnie and I are splitting up—"

"_What_?" asked Stefan, jaw slacking.

"But you said—" started Matt.

"—from the group," Damon laughed—actually _laughing_. Matt was so startled by the sound that he didn't have anything smartass to say to Damon. "She's not something I could force myself away from." With that said, he strolled over to Bonnie and pulled her in his arms, murmuring something in her ear.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Sorry if this was rushed! TBC guys :) I'm sorry if it's a lot of Matt/Alyson stuff lately but the plan must go on. We will all be rewarded by good Bamon in the end! And thank you so much for the reviews! I loved them! :D


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

* * *

><p><strong>Summer Love<strong>

**PART XVII**

"Where are we going?" asked Bonnie, keeping her hand in Damon's.

"To proceed with our date," Damon answered, glancing slyly over his shoulder. Being interrupted last night by the shore during such a _passionate_ activity grated his nerves to no end, and he didn't want any interruption today. He expected that there wouldn't be any, since he already told Mutt off.

Bonnie blushed, smiling and pressing herself closer to him. "Sounds great," she breathed. They were passing the ferris wheel when Bonnie tugged on Damon's hand. "Can we go there?" she asked, pointing to the ride.

He glimpsed at the ferris wheel, then at Bonnie, and said, "Let's ride it later." Maybe before we leave, he added in his mind, slipping his hand out of hers to wrap his arm around her petite waist. He couldn't believe that he had to go back to Italy in three weeks. Time was moving extremely fast for him, especially now that he found this type of affection for Bonnie (Damon was still somewhat hesitant about admitting that he _loved_ Bonnie). "On second thought, let's ride it now."

Bonnie let out a surprised gasp as Damon made a sharp U-turn and headed for the ferris wheel. He pulled her to him, sending her an apologetic smirk. As if catching her questioning trail of thoughts, Damon bent down, his lips brushing against her ear. "We're escaping afterwards. Unless," she felt him smile, "you want to stay."

"Where would we go?" Bonnie asked as they reached the short line for the ferris wheel.

"Anywhere you'd like," Damon replied, his signature half-smile appearing on his face.

"Okay," she squeaked. Not helping himself, Damon shifted closer and pressed a lingering kiss on her lips.

* * *

><p>"So yeah, Damon knows what we're doing," Matt sighed. Angrily running a hand through his blonde hair, he watched his friend perfectly shoot the last bottle with her last ball.<p>

"Oh yeah!" Alyson cheered, jumping up in victory. She was either completely oblivious to what Matt had said, or she was ignoring him. The person in the booth grinned at Alyson and tipped his hat.

"Congrats, miss. What prize do you want?" he asked, beckoning to the lines of stuffed toys, balls, yoyos, and other prizes behind him. Alyson pointed to the big panda sitting atop the shelf, just above the teddy bears. He nodded, reaching up for the panda and handing it to Alyson. She hugged the panda tightly to her chest.

"Thank you," she said, beaming brightly. The man behind the booth tipped his hat once again as Alyson turned to Matt.

"What were you saying after the bathroom-part?" Alyson asked, starting to walk aimlessly with Matt. The crowd was quite smaller now, though they were still huge. It was in the afternoon, probably an hour after Damon and Bonnie split up from the group and half an hour before they split up from Elena and Stefan.

"Damon knows what we're doing," Matt repeated, once again sighing.

"Well that sucks," grumbled Alyson, pressing her cheek against the top of her panda's head. Her chubby black and white panda was the length of her torso, and perhaps a little bit more, and it was implausibly soft. "So that means we don't have to pretend anymore?" she inquired slowly.

Strangely enough, Matt didn't want to stop pretending—because, he had to admit, having a pretend-girlfriend was kind of fun. No strings attached. And then what Damon told him earlier, about Alyson's feelings, made him glance indecisively at his friend. It wasn't evident, he couldn't see it. Maybe Damon was just playing with his head. Like he always had been doing. Stop thinking about it, _idiot_, Matt scolded himself as he chewed the inside of his cheek.

"I'll take that as a yes," Alyson remarked, hazel eyes staring ahead. It didn't appear like she was hurting inside, Matt thought absently—when he realized that he was supposed to answer.

"What? What—what did you say before that?" Matt asked, inwardly shaking his head. _Focus_, Honeycutt.

"Pretending—we don't have to pretend anymore?" she questioned again. This time, they halted under a tiny shady part of the carnival, under a tree, and Alyson raised her eyes to meet his. It wasn't shiny; it wasn't watery. He couldn't figure out if Damon was to be trusted about such things.

"Well, only Damon knows so . . ."

"He probably already blew our cover," sighed Alyson, turning around so that her back faced him. From here, Matt could see her tensed shoulders and how her fingernails dug in her elbow.

"Maybe," Matt muttered. He was so perplexed. He couldn't understand what he was feeling, or how he was feeling, for Bonnie . . . and for Alyson. "But he told me that if I hang out with you, then maybe he won't do it."

"So you're doing this—hanging out with me—because you don't want Bonnie to know that this was a scheme?" asked Alyson, looking over her shoulder. Her eyebrows were scrunched together. And Matt had the odd urge to massage them back into its usual relaxed state.

The way she said it, in that tone torn between annoyance and confusion, made him sound like he didn't _want_ to spend time with her. "Don't get me wrong," Matt hastily added. "I love spending time with you. It's just that . . ."

"You want to spend it with Bonnie," she finished for him bleakly. Alyson cleared her throat and turned her head away again. "I know."

"_No_," he said, raking his fingers through his hair. "It's just that I don't _know_ what to feel. I don't know what to _do_."

Her taut shoulders sagged and she pivoted on her heel, an exhausted smile on her face. "Why don't we just enjoy today and get back on track some other day? Maybe later this week?" Alyson tried to futilely widen her halfhearted smile.

"Yeah," Matt replied, sounding as if he just woke up. "Yeah, let's do that." He gently grabbed his friend by the elbow and began dragging Alyson towards the ferris wheel. Matt sent a grin over his shoulder. "We haven't ridden that in a while, have we?"

"No," she mumbled, shaking her head and sounding fairly dazed. "No we haven't."

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><p>"Oooh," Bonnie said, pulling Damon by his arm. She pointed to the poster that read, <em>6 POUND MILKSHAKE FOR $16.50!<em> and grinned at Damon. "Wanna try it?"

"I don't really have a sweet tooth," he grumbled, crossing his arms yet following his little girlfriend inside the diner. Damon noticed that this place had a lot of diners and other tiny shops; it was very convenient for the tourists visiting the beach.

"It's okay," Bonnie shrugged, although she sounded a tad bit disappointed. "I'll finish it. I hope." They found themselves sitting in two chairs on opposite sides of the little round table.

"What can I do for you pumpkins today?" asked an old waitress. She pulled a notepad and a pen from her pocket.

"We want the 6-pound milkshake," answered Damon, who Bonnie shot an astounded look (but it also appeared as if she was expecting it).

"Vanilla, strawberry, or chocolate?" the woman asked, grinning at them. Damon didn't know what to pick because frankly, he didn't like any, and this wasn't his idea.

"Strawberry," sang Bonnie, clasping her hands together and beaming happily at Damon. Anything to put that smile on her face, Damon thought with a half-smile.

"That it?" the waitress asked; Bonnie and Damon nodded, and she left after saying, "Fifteen minutes."

"So what changed your mind?" Bonnie asked, placing her hands on the table. She began playing with a sugar packet by flipping it up and then down, up and down, and all over again. Damon watched her, smirking amusedly, and reached out to encase one of her hands in his. He placed them to his lips, lightly pressing a kiss on her knuckles.

"You," he replied, dark eyes smiling. Bonnie blushed, but grinned shyly at him. Fifteen minutes later, Bonnie and Damon stuck their straws in the 6-pound strawberry milkshake and began drinking. Around the third sip, Damon drew his lips away and gulped down half of his glass of water.

"Too sweet," he told Bonnie, a faint scowl on his face. Bonnie continued to drink through her straw, and leaned back on her seat with a satisfied sigh.

"It's _soo_ good," Bonnie moaned, rubbing her head, "but it's giving me a brain freeze."

"_You'_re giving yourself a brain freeze," said Damon, smirking at his girlfriend as she glared at him. He shrugged innocently, sipping from his glass. "You just need to breathe and drink slower."

"But it's _so good_," Bonnie argued. She couldn't help but grin at him, and got back to the milkshake. It took two hours for them to finish the milkshake—although Damon only took a couple of sips; probably fifty at the maximum.

Bonnie patted her stomach and wiped her mouth, burping quietly into her hand. Damon found himself smiling again at how peculiar she was, at how she flushed when she realized that Damon caught her burping, at how she was so adorable yet so _beautiful_ at the same time.

"Where do you want to go now?" asked Damon, placing the money on the table. Plus the tip. He offered her a hand.

"Home," she replied, taking his hand to pull herself up, and immediately slumping against his body. Damon's heart gave a little jolt when she said that. He wrapped his arms around her body, pushing the door open with his shoulder as the bell up top jingled a few times.

He wondered if Bonnie truly felt that the beach house was her home . . . because he was kind of feeling it too.

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><p><strong>AN: **Okay here it is! I'm really sorry if it doesn't have much feeling in it, but I'm totally emotionally drained! Or maybe just not enough inspiration? Anyway, I hoped you guys enjoyed it! Sort of Bamon fluff… THANKS FOR EVERYTHING GUYS!


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

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><p><strong>Summer Love<strong>

**PART XVIII**

"One week left," sighed Bonnie. She pushed her fingers through her tangled red hair, digging her feet under the warm sand. She and Damon were watching the dolphins again; the dolphins were happily splashing in the sea.

"Stop thinking about it," Damon said, wrapping his hand around his girlfriend's.

"But I _can't_," she replied, snapping her head towards him. "You leave next Friday, and I'll probably never see you again, and a long-distance relationship is hard, and—"

Damon exhaled tiredly, rubbing the corner of his eye with his other hand. "Don't worry about it."

Bonnie pursed her lips together and turned her gaze towards the sea. Why was he acting so _nonchalant_ about this? Their relationship was at stake (well, no not really) and he was acting so casual about everything. As if being apart from his girlfriend was a normal thing; as if being a thousand miles apart mean the same thing as being a few inches apart. Dipping her eyebrows in annoyance, she bit the inside of her cheek and silently watched the dolphins.

Damon glanced at Bonnie, raising his eyebrows amusedly. Her face was pinched, yet he still found her adorable, so he moved closer and cupped her face with both of his hands, using his thumbs to relax her brooding eyebrows (Must've learned it from Stefan, Damon thought) and smiled lightly at her. "Why are you so affected by it, cara?"

"You know why," she grumbled, averting her brown eyes on the sand. His dark eyes were too fathomless that Bonnie felt like she was going to get sucked in it.

"I don't," he stated, moving his thumbs across her cheeks. They were soft . . . really soft . . . he would miss touching her like this.

"You're horrible," Bonnie cried, grinning to herself while she raised her eyes to meet his. The sizzling bond between them, which had been apparent for quite a while now, sparked a bit more when her brown orbs met his.

"Even so," chuckled Damon, pulling her in his arms and kissing the top of her head.

"I just," Bonnie paused and buried her face on his shoulder, shutting her eyes tightly. "I just love you," she mumbled against his shirt. He smelled like saltwater.

"What was that?" Damon asked, slightly drawing away to look at her properly. It seemed like he really didn't hear her.

It was now or never, Bonnie thought to herself. But there was also tomorrow . . . and the day after that . . . and so on . . . _do it_, Bonnie scolded herself. Her ears began warming up, and so did her face, although what she was sure Damon noticed the most was how loud her heart was beating. She glanced up at his face, caught his curious and amused look, and realized that maybe he _couldn't_ hear how loud and fast her heart was beating.

"What did you—"

"I just love you," repeated Bonnie with a sigh. She covered her face, not minding that some sand was on her right hand and therefore smudging themselves on her face. "I don't know," she added, shaking her head. "You probably don't feel the same way—"

"Idiot," cut in Damon. He reached for her hands and placed his lips on her fingers. "Ever since I got here, I forgot about everything that happened before you." He pressed his forehead against hers, a corner of his lips quirked up. "And I'm not letting you get away that easily."

Unexpectedly, tears pricked at her eyes and blinked rapidly in hopes of getting rid of them. That wasn't exactly a love confession, but knowing Damon—even for a short time—Bonnie knew that it was as close as she could get at the time being. Damon had a heart time expressing his feelings through words, so he resorted to actions instead. Like now.

His lips were moving gently against hers, with an underlying desperation that she remembered from the night by the shore. She let her fingers slide through his hair and down his nape, drawing him tightly against her petite body. All too suddenly, she was lying back on the soft and grainy sand and Damon was wrapping her legs around his waist while he continued to devour her lips with his as he hovered over her.

"I don't want you to go," she whimpered once his mouth left hers—only to move down her jaw and neck.

"I don't want this to end," he grunted as he righted his position above her, digging his elbows on either side of her head. Damon looked down at her, his eyes tracing her features intently. There was a wistful look in his eyes that implied that he never wanted to leave her side, but Bonnie didn't bother to look into it. She just wanted this moment to last forever and ever and ever . . .

"It doesn't _have_ to," breathed Bonnie, reaching up to glide her fingers lightly on the side of his face. "You can always stay . . ."

Damon sighed again, rolling away from her and lying down beside her. The sun was slowly rising and it reminded the both of them that there wasn't anything that lasted forever. "I can't. Father would be pissed, and I've got to handle the damn business."

"Oh," was what she murmured. Was work more important than her? No, Bonnie thought hastily, don't think like that. It wasn't like they were officially in love, right? Well, Bonnie was . . . but she wasn't so certain about Damon.

"You sound so disappointed," commented Damon, propping himself up with an elbow and lying on his side to look down at her.

"I am," Bonnie muttered, shifting her eyes on him. "I want you to stay. But you can't because of work."

"Don't worry about it," Damon said again, smiling that sly smile. Her heart couldn't help but flutter at his mischief. "You'll see me again."

"Soon?" she asked hopefully, unconsciously grabbing his free hand and squeezing it.

He merely shrugged. Then an impish look spread across his face. It was his time to bust Mutt, and Damon didn't feel any remorse at all. Maybe he was a sadist after all. "Mutt and Alyson are just pretending to date you know. And it's all the mutt's idea."

Bonnie was too startled to correct Damon that it was _Matt_ not _Mutt_. "You're kidding? But _why_?"

"You really are an idiot," laughed Damon and Bonnie lightly pushed at his shoulder.

"And you're really horrible. Now tell me!" Bonnie exclaimed. She moved closer to him as if they were sharing a secret (and perhaps they were, since it was Matt's secret), and raised her eyebrows. "Are they really pretending? And why?"

"Yes they really are," answered Damon, chuckling at the huge interest Bonnie has invested in the mutt and Alyson's fake relationship. "And they're doing it to make you jealous."

"Alyson _likes_ me?" Bonnie gasped, covering her parted lips with her hand.

I guess Alyson _does_ wear the pants in the relationship, mused Damon amusedly. "No, it's Mutt."

"Oh." She allowed her hand to drop back on her stomach and she squinted at the light blue sky. It was going to be a good day today, and Bonnie could feel it. She simply didn't know what to do; she hoped that Damon had something in mind. Besides watching TV and lazing around the couch. Bonnie often wondered how Damon had such a nice body even though he was an extreme couch potato.

"That's all you can say?"

Well I'm sorry if I'm distracted by thoughts of _you_, thought Bonnie halfheartedly. "Well, yeah. I don't know what the big fuss is about. I just . . . feel bad for Alyson. I thought they were seriously going out! I guess not. I'm going to have a long talk with Matt," Bonnie babbled. "Poor Alyson!"

"I say that you just chew them both out. Not that I have anything against Alyson, but she was still in on the plan," remarked Damon, rather entertained.

"You're horrible," Bonnie repeated while shaking her head. "Yet I still love you."

Damon felt a smile creep up his face as he bent down to press a kiss on her forehead. "I'm sorry you have to feel so many things about me."

"And you're so arrogant," Bonnie laughed, and was immediately interjected by his soft kiss.

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><p><strong>AN:** It's almost to an end! YAY! After this, I'm going to finish the rest of my stories and I will take a very long hiatus. Very, very long! Probably won't see me in months or years, but whatevs. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS! I really loved them! I'm just going to be tying up loose ends in the next few chapters so. :)


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